


Something That Never Was Mine

by Parker_Haven_Wuornos



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Lexie is Real, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Slow Burn, This turned into a, alternate personalities, season four au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 94,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21625642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker_Haven_Wuornos/pseuds/Parker_Haven_Wuornos
Summary: Nathan is finding it hard to fall in love with Lexie, and even harder to make her fall in love with him. Lexie is not interested in either of those things happening. Duke wants a chance with Audrey's new, wilder personality, even if it means he'll have to die for Haven. As if all that wasn't enough, they're still dealing with the troubles.
Relationships: Audrey Parker/Nathan Wuornos, Duke Crocker/Audrey Parker | Lexie DeWitt, Duke Crocker/Audrey Parker/Nathan Wuornos
Comments: 146
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You're probably wondering "when does this take place in season 4?" and "What's different about this aside from Lexie being a real overlay and not just Audrey pretending?" and "Why isn't Jennifer here? How did Duke escape without her?" Those are all good questions. I may or may not answer any of them. I'm making this up as I go and having a great time. Enjoy!

Since he had returned to Haven, Duke hadn’t minded closing up on his own. Prior to his seconds-long six-month absence, he’d thought that it was boring bordering on arduous to have to take care of all of the millions of things which required doing at the end of the night, but now he found that he liked the quiet, like the nice, orderly sense of it all. He had a list of things he had to do, and each task was easily accomplished and checked off.

Things in Haven would be a lot better off if more of his problems were like that. He heaved a sigh and moved to stack another chair so he could finish sweeping and finally go home, but the door swung open, stopping him mid-motion.

Lexie stormed in, sweeping past several obvious indicators that the place was closed and made herself at home at the bar.

This was forbidden territory, but Duke couldn’t help himself; he liked Lexie, and even if it meant he got home a little later, he wanted to talk to her. “Rough day at the office?”

She rolled her eyes. “You could say that.”

“What can I get for you?”

“What’s strong and cheap?” She shrugged. “Fuck, maybe a long island or something.”

Duke swallowed a gag. “Absolutely not. You’re better than that.” He grabbed a bottle off the shelf, a nice Irish whiskey he’d been saving for no real reason.

She accepted the glass and drank it faster than she should have—he tried not to be offended that she didn’t savor it—before holding her glass out again for a refill.

“Something happen?” Duke asked tentatively as he poured her another. He knew what his mission was and did it even if he wasn’t feeling happy about it. “You know who would be good to talk to about this—”

“If you say anything nice about Nathan fucking Wuornos right now, I’ll kill you.”

Duke had to bite his lip to hold in his smile. He grabbed the bottle and a glass for himself, walking around the bar so he could sit next to her. “I’ve been there. What happened?”

She shrugged, giving him an eyeroll that spoke volumes. “Nothing, but I swear every time I turn around there’s someone hanging around telling me how great he is, or some story about something awesome he did with Audrey Parker the perfect. It makes me want to scream.”

“Ah.” He didn’t really know what to say from there. Lexie had every right to be frustrated, but she had her part to play in their little psychodrama, and he couldn’t discourage her. It was only a matter of time before she fell for Nathan like she was supposed to. Sure, what would happen after that made him queasy, but it was the way things had to be. It was the only way to end all this.

So, for every reason in the book, Duke should be trying to push her into Nathan’s arms, use his extensive knowledge of all things Nathan Wuornos to convince her that he was the guy she’d been dreaming of forever, but faced with her, looking at him like that, he just couldn’t do it.

“He can kinda suck sometimes,” He finally said.

The smile that split Lexie’s face was brilliant and so utterly _Audrey_ that Duke faltered for a moment. It was her, just like she had looked in Colorado, before the shit had hit the fan and they’d ended up in this mess. He had to pause, breathe, before he could focus on what she was saying.

“Everyone seems to just love him, and I guess he’s fine but he’s so… normal. I made one whole joke about bondage and I thought he was going to shit himself—”

Duke choked on his whiskey, because, while he was a fairly collected person who prided himself on being hard to read, he could not handle this girl using the word ‘bondage’. No, that summoned too many images that were entirely inappropriate for this situation, for this girl.

“Is that just a Maine thing?” She asked, raising one eyebrow at his reaction.

Duke shook his head quickly. “No, it’s just… you look like Audrey. I know you’re not her, but you look like her, and seeing you… seeing Audrey’s face and hearing Audrey’s voice make those jokes? You’re lucky Nathan didn’t have an aneurism.”

“So she was like him?” She asked, taking a long sip of whiskey, which he was glad to see she savored a bit more. “Nice and normal and proper?”

“Not exactly,” He said. “But I’m sure you don’t want to hear more about Audrey.”

“I want to hear _all_ the bad things about Mr. and Mrs. Perfect. Everyone can’t stop talking about how wonderful they are, but come on, where are the warts? How could anyone stand to be in a room with them if they were actually that good?”

This was a very dangerous road to walk down, but Duke found himself not caring as much as he should. Had Nathan cared how dangerous it was to shoot agent Howard? Had Audrey cared about the risks she was taking going into that barn? Why should he care? Why shouldn’t he be allowed to have fun with a girl who had made clear in every possible way that she was _not_ Audrey?

So he shrugged. “No. They weren’t that perfect. I know for a fact that Nathan is a hypocrite, and he can be petty as hell, you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’ve spoken to him; I absolutely believe it.”

“And he’s a liar. I mean, the guy goes around acting like he doesn’t feel anything—I mean emotions, he’s telling the truth about the skin thing—but if you try and get a reaction out of him at all, he’s the most sensitive person in the world, it’s ridiculous.”

“Men,” Lexie said, rolling her eyes and finishing her drink before pouring another one.

Duke frowned. “I’m not like that. If I feel something, I don’t deny it.”

She held up her glass, knocking it against his. “A guy after my own heart. I’m a tell it like it is kinda girl.”

“I had picked up on that.” Tension slid up Duke’s back, and he realized he was in one of _those_ moments, when you were with someone, and you were both on the right side of drunk, and the conversation hit a hitch, where it would be perfectly natural to lean in…

But this was not just some girl who stumbled into his bar. This was Lexie, formerly Audrey, and she had to fall in love with Nathan to cure the troubles. He looked away, breaking the moment.

Lexie shifted back, and he could tell she was surprised, maybe confused, to think she looked disappointed was probably just wishful thinking.

“Anyway, underneath all that Nathan’s not a bad guy.”

It was the wrong thing to say, and he’d known that when he’d said it, but it still stung when she stood up. “Yeah, whatever. You people can keep trying, but it’s not going to happen.”

“What?”

“You want me to fall in love with him.” She shrugged like it made perfect sense. “Not sure why or what you think it’ll accomplish, but I can tell it’s what you’re after, and it’s not going to happen.”

Duke had to swallow several times, opening his mouth to speak and then stopping again to evaluate what she’d said. “You knew?”

“You people are shitty at keeping secrets; it’s a wonder the whole world doesn’t know about the troubles.” She sighed and turned to go. “I guess I just thought you were different.”

With that, she strode out, only slightly off-balance from all the alcohol. On instinct, Duke followed her out and watched her climb up the stairs to Audrey’s—her—apartment.

At the door, she turned back and looked at him, a small smile he didn’t know how to interpret playing across her lips.

* * *

Alexandra Elizabeth Dewitt was, frankly, a bit of a mess. Always had been. Her earliest memories were of getting in trouble, of doing the wrong thing. She had gotten bad grades when she’d gone to school, and she’d only rarely bothered going.

After school she’d let herself be wild, running away from home to live on a commune with a greasy-haired guy named Craig, who had moved on to a girl who called herself Starshine.

From there, Lexie had preferred to be mobile, moving from place to place and taking odd jobs where she could find them.

Of course, none of that was actually true, because those memories were someone else’s, her name wasn’t actually Lexie, and she actually hadn’t lived through any of those memories. She didn’t know what that meant, or why it had happened to her. She didn’t know about fixing troubles or killing guys who were in love with her, but she knew one thing.

Lexie Dewitt was a damn good bartender.

Working at the Gull was the closest thing to normal she’d felt since arriving in Haven, even with all the weirdness around it, a bar was a bar and she knew what to do when she was behind one of those.

She liked Nora, who worked with her, liked the regulars who smelled like fish and told jokes that were really only funny if you were from Maine. She didn’t like the guys who grabbed her ass as she was walking by, but damn if she wasn’t used to that, and it was better than the stares and whispers at the police station.

 _Audrey_.

The name haunted her less here. Sure, people still knew Audrey, still thought she was her with an extreme and unorthodox case of amnesia, but they didn’t know her well, or at least weren’t disappointed that she was Lexie now.

That had been the worst part of the police station: the disappointment. No one had looked at her without it, each time she made eye contact with someone, it was to see their expression of dismay. _You’re not who I wanted._

 _You’re not Audrey and I don’t want you!_ Nathan’s words stood out the most, the harshest expression of that same disappointment.

 _Well, fuck you too, buddy,_ She thought, slamming a bottle of tequila onto the bar harder than she needed to. _I don’t want you either._

“You okay there, Lexie?” Duke asked, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere. She swore this place had secret passageways or something, from the way he could just appear behind her. It would have been unsettling, but she was always glad to see him, even if he startled her.

“Yeah, I’m good,” She smiled at him, saw his expression flicker in a way she couldn’t read, but really wanted to. “This makes sense to me.”

“Glad to hear it. Stay away from seven though, guy has some attitude and I don’t want you dealing with it.”

“Good to know. I carded the guy at four, keeps insisting he’s troubled and just looks like a teenager, but I’m pretty sure it’s bull.”

“Not unheard of,” Duke admitted with a shudder, “But that’s Colby Myers; he’s full of shit.”

“Wait… is that a real thing? A trouble that makes people look like kids?”

Duke’s jaw clenched for a second. “Yes.”

She smiled again, liking the way it seemed to disarm him. “You’ll have to tell me about it some time.”

“Yeah, I... sure. Sometime.” He walked away as quickly as he’d arrived.

She was working her head off for the next hour, feeling like she was forgetting everything, but it all came together, and no one died or pitched a fit.

Of course, good nights couldn’t last. Nathan walked in and she knew her shift was over for the night. At least she got a laugh out of the fact that he was soaked to the skin, looking like a half-drowned rat.

He played at being so collected and taciturn that she liked seeing him looking ridiculous.

“Hey, Lexie, I could use some help?”

“Let me guess,” She said, “Someone weaponized the fish?”

“No, and if you believe in anything, pray to them that never happens. Someone is messing with the tides; the whole harbor’s a mess.” Nathan made eye-contact with Duke and waved him over.

“You’re dripping on my floors,” Was all Duke said.

“Your boat’s in the line of fire, Duke, you may want to come with on this one.”

Duke groaned slightly but told Tracey to take over until he got back. The three of them climbed into Nathan’s car, which was—in Lexie’s opinion—the coolest thing about him.

“So… if this trouble involves the tides,” Lexie began, “How’d you end up in the water?”

Nathan muttered something under his breath.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” She was biting back a laugh.

“Fell off a boat,” He muttered, and she watched his jaw muscle flex with some satisfaction. It was just so easy to get under this guy’s skin.

She caught Duke’s eye in the rearview mirror and smiled, sharing a quiet laugh at Nathan’s expense.

When they made it to the docks, Lexie had to admit that it probably wasn’t Nathan’s fault that he’d fallen in. With the way the waves looked, anyone would struggle to keep their balance. Lexie certainly had her doubts about her own abilities, having never really spent much time on or around boats, or at least the real Lexie DeWitt hadn’t. She wondered, vaguely, if Audrey had.

Nathan pointed out a guy, young and skinny and scared-looking standing on the edge of one of the docks. The waves whipped around him, reaching towards him like hands, threatening to pull him in and away forever.

“I couldn’t even get close enough to talk to him,” Nathan said. “I have no idea what happened to trigger his trouble or how to stop it.”

“Perfect,” Lexie said, feeling her heart skip and start to race. She stared at the narrow stretch of dock, half of which was fully submerged in waves. “So… I’m immune, right?”

“Not to this,” Nathan said. “The environmental stuff still hurts you.”

“Even better,” Lexie muttered. “Any ideas?”

Duke stared at the man on the dock, tilting his head like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Lexie would have found it cute if she hadn’t been too full of panic to really notice. “Maybe we can get him to come to us. Look at how the waves move around him; maybe he’s controlling it enough to keep it from drowning him.” 

“He’d still have to be able to hear us,” Lexie pointed out. “Anyone have a bullhorn?”

“There’s one in my trunk,” Nathan said.

Lexie had to roll her eyes. “Of course there is.”

He met her eyes and said, deadly serious, “Boy scouts are always prepared.”

She nearly stepped back in shock. “Was that a joke?” She turned to Duke, “Did he just tell a joke? He can do that? I didn’t realize they’d put that in your programing.” But she was smiling. Sure, it was weird that the funniest thing he’d said was during a situation that could kill them all very unpleasantly, but it was nice to know that it was, in fact, possible for him to have a sense of humor.

She watched him go, shrugging off the momentary confusion and turning back to the problem at hand. “What am I supposed to say to him?”

Duke shrugged. “You always just know.”

“You mean Audrey always knew,” She grumbled. Being compared to Audrey felt like being back in high school, when her teachers would wonder why she couldn’t just sit still and do her work, be good like the other girls.

“No,” Duke said. “I saw you do it once when you weren’t Audrey, before you were Audrey, you were someone named Sarah, I met her when I time-traveled and—”

“Wait, when you what?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you some other time. I saw Sarah do the same thing. She just… she knew. You will too.”

Lexie nodded, hoping that—if she couldn’t trust herself—she could at least trust him. “Okay.”

Nathan returned and held the bullhorn out to her. “Are you okay with this?”

Lexie laughed bitterly. “Do I have a choice?”

“Yes,” He said.

“But you know I won’t say no.”

He shrugged, a gesture she was starting to realize was more expressive from him than from most people. “You never do.”

She almost corrected him that it was _Audrey_ who never refused, but she realized, when she really thought about it, that she didn’t want to walk away from this. Gripping the bullhorn, she nodded to both of them and then started to walk towards the guy on the dock.

The waves crashed under her, getting stronger the closer she got to the troubled man. She took deep breaths and forced herself to think of anything other than the churning black water underneath her and the freezing spray of it around her.

She held up the horn, flinching at the momentary feedback when she hit the button. “Hello?” She called, feeling stupid and incompetent and wondering when the magical, trouble-fixing side of her would kick in and take over. “Um, hi.”

The man turned to look at her, tilting his head and squinting, trying to make her out amidst the chaos around him.

“What’s your name?” It was possibly a very dumb question, but she needed to start somewhere.

He shouted something back, but she couldn’t hear him. It kind of looked like he had mouthed Terry, so she went with that.

“Terry, I need you to listen to me.” Maybe Nathan’s bullhorn was magical, but her voice sounded far more confident than she felt. “I know it sounds crazy, but you’re doing this. I need you to take a deep breath and trust me for a minute.”

Even with the distance and the crashing waves and the salt-spray everywhere, Lexie could see the fear shining in his wide eyes. He nodded, desperate.

He needed help. He needed her, as insane as that was. So Lexie did something even dumber than coming out here had been. “Hang in there, Terry, I’m coming out to you.”

She vaguely heard Duke and Nathan shouting from the other end of the dock, but she ignored them and took another step. The waves soaked over her shoes, but she forced herself not to look down.

 _Eyes up, deep breath. Just walk._ It was just like carrying a full tray through a crowded bar. If you looked at your feet, you were fucked. She fixed her eyes on Terry’s shaking, terrified form and kept walking.

“I’m coming to get you,” She said.

Halfway there, the waves picked up again. She lifted the bullhorn again. “Terry, I know this is scary, but just hang on and wait for me. I’m almost there.” She hoped he believed her, even though she was still a good ways away, and not convinced she’d be able to make much more progress.

“Don’t get too close!” He shouted. “It’s getting worse!”

“It’s getting worse because you’re scared,” Lexie called. “You need to calm down so I can get to you!”

Terry didn’t calm down. The waves continued to roar underneath her, soaking her to her knees and very nearly sweeping her off the dock. She wondered, vaguely, how well she could swim. She wasn’t even sure Lexie knew how to swim. She wasn’t sure of anything except that she had to get through to Terry.

“Terry, can you tell me what happened?” She was close enough to hear him now, and the waves were only getting higher; she couldn’t go any further until he had calmed down.

He looked out to sea, searching for something and then turned back, more panicked than he had been. “They got lost. We were supposed to meet… supposed to be here hours ago. I just... I wanted them to come back and then—”

“Terry, no one can go looking for them until the tide is down. We’ll help you, I promise, but you have to let us. You have to believe that we’ll help you bring them back.” She was sure—finally sure of something—that his trouble was caused by his need for them to return. He was scared for whoever was on that boat, and he wanted the tides to bring them back, but of course he couldn’t control his trouble.

“You can do that?” His gaze wavered, and Lexie swore she saw the waves recede the slightest bit.

“Yes!” She jumped on his tiny hesitation, taking several sloshing steps forward. “I know a lot of cops; they can help you find that boat.”

“But what if—”

“Terry, stop. You can’t ‘what if’ this. We’ll find them. We’ll figure this out. But take a breath, step away from the dock.”

The waves really were going down now, and she felt herself finally start to breathe. Whoever had taken over to start trouble-whispering seemed to recede and she felt more like herself.

Terry gave one last, desperate look over his shoulder and she thought that she’d maybe gotten lucky.

“Come on,” She said, holding out her hand. “Let’s go get dry.”

They almost made it back. She had locked eyes with Duke and was pushing Terry onto dry land when a rogue wave—the last vestiges of Terry’s panic—swept over the dock and did what all the others had been trying to do since she’d gotten here.

It dragged her into the ocean.

She woke up warm and vaguely confused somewhere that smelled very nice. The confusion faded as she managed to force herself further out of sleep. She had been wherever she was before. _Duke’s boat,_ a faint memory seemed to hiss at her.

Part of her wondered when she’d heard that Duke had a boat, or how she knew that this was it, but it didn’t matter. The same instinct told her that it was fine that she was naked because there would be a shirt for her on the nightstand.

“Duke?” She moved a little clumsily through the boat to the deck. She wasn’t certain if she was unstable because she’d been tossed around in the water or because of the ship’s faint rocking underneath her, but either way it made her feel a bit sick.

She found him sitting on a chair on the deck. “You’re up!” He stood and reached down, handing her a cup of coffee.

She took a long sip, ignoring the fact that it was still a little too hot. “How’d you know how I like it?”

“Black is a pretty easy guess,” He said.

“It’s how Audrey took her coffee, isn’t it?” She sighed. God, she would never escape that bitch’s shadow.

His lips pressed together, and he shrugged. “Yes.”

Lexie moved past him and sat heavily on his chair, pretending she didn’t notice the fact that Duke noticed her legs, noticed all of what his shirt revealed. A warm flush crawled up her skin, heating her more effectively than the coffee. She liked that he noticed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, clearing his throat just a little.

She nodded. “I still have all my parts. How’s Terry?”

“Terry?”

“The troubled guy?”

“Oh, right. His name was Leroy. He’s doing okay, still worried about his family on the boat, but Nathan’s taking care of it.”

“Good.” She was surprised to find that she genuinely was glad to hear that he was alright.

“You were amazing out there, Lex,” Duke said quietly. “And I hate to say I told you so, but—”

She hit him lightly on the arm. “Shut up. You had no idea I was going to be able to do that, you just said so to make me feel better.”

“I did not! Remember what we talked about? I tell it like it is, and you, Lexie DeWitt, are good at helping the troubled.”

“Thanks,” She said, allowing herself to be sincere for a moment. “And thanks for fishing me out of the water. This is going to sound crazy but… have you done that before?”

Something like pain flicked across Duke’s face. “Yeah. On your—Audrey’s—first day in Haven she fell in the water because of a trouble. I saw it happened and brought her back here.” There was softness in his voice when he talked about her, and though Lexie would never have admitted it, that stung.

She knew Nathan looked at her and wanted Audrey. The first thing she had ever learned about Nathan, before even learning his name, was that he loved the person she had been before, but Duke…

That Duke was in love with Audrey too shouldn’t surprise her, but it did. This guy, who was relaxed and easygoing, quick to laugh and encourage, that this guy would also be in love with someone serious and practical like Audrey Parker hurt.

Because, though Lexie had experienced a lot of confusion over who she was in the past few days, she knew she wasn’t that kind of girl.

“Were you together?” She asked.

Duke coughed over the sip of coffee he’d taken. “What?”

“Were you together? You and Audrey?”

The pain came and went again, barely perceptible. “No.”

“But you wanted to be?”

He sighed. “It’s not that simple.”

She rolled her eyes. “God, you Haven men can’t just answer a fucking question, can you? Everything is ‘it’s complicated’ or ‘it’s a secret’ or ‘Audrey wouldn’t have even had to ask.’ Whatever, I’m over it.”

She set her coffee down hard and stood, feeling self-conscious for the first time about the fact that she was only wearing his shirt. “Where are my clothes?”

“Lexie, don’t go,” Duke said softly, catching her wrist in one hand. “Look… Yes, I liked Audrey. She was… so perceptive, and she had this, I don’t even know how to describe it, this magnetism. She made people like her, she made them trust her.”

“Right.”

“But she was all work and no play, and very stubborn, bad at communicating, really bad at saying ‘thank you’ when you did something nice for her. In those ways she and Nathan were perfect for each other.”

“So…”

“So, yeah, I liked Audrey, but the things I liked about her…” He stopped, glanced down at his hand still around her wrist. He brushed his thumb very gently over the bone under his fingers and then let go. “Never mind.”

Lexie nearly screamed. “Fine, whatever. You know, it’s pretty bold that you called Nathan a hypocrite when you talk about how frustrating it is to deal with someone who won’t talk about stuff. What happened to telling it like it is?”

Without waiting for an answer—it would have just made her want to stay, and she was determined to be mad at him—she stormed off his boat, snatching her clothes haphazardly when she found them hanging on a nearby line.

* * *

What Duke had wanted to say to Lexie was that the same things he liked about Audrey, he liked about her, but Lexie, rather than sharing Audrey’s flaws, had a whole host of new and interesting ones, which he had also found himself liking.

The problem, of course, was that he was technically supposed to be feeding information to Nathan so that _he_ could be endeared by her flaws. It was for the good of Haven and everyone in it, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he could do it.

Not when there was another option.

He met Nathan for coffee.

“Everything okay?” Nathan asked, sitting down without even bothering to order anything. “How’s Lexie?”

“She’s fine. Look, Nate, I need to talk to you. About Lexie.”

“She hates me?”  
“Not about that. At least, not entirely. Actually, it’s about… me.”

Nathan’s eyes went wide and Duke saw his shoulders tense. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? What happened?”

Duke was so touched by his concern that he couldn’t respond for a little longer than was socially normal. “Yeah, I’m, fine. It’s just… Lexie.”

“What?”

“I like her.” There. Finally, the words were out there to hang between them.

Nathan’s frown deepened. “Like… _like_ her like her?”

“How old are you?”

“Duke—”

“Yes, okay, fine! Like her, pass her notes on the playground and doodle her initials in my notebook like her.”

He expected a laugh, or maybe for Nathan to be offended, or pissed off because he usually was when it came to Duke. He was not expecting panic.

“No! Duke, you can’t.” He shook his head, reaching across the table like he was going to grab Duke’s hand, but he must have thought better of it. “Duke…”

“You don’t like her, Nathan! You can’t like her until you get over Audrey and we don’t have that kind of time. I do like her, and I think maybe she might like me, or at least she could—”

“No!” Nathan repeated, his voice rough with emotion. “It’s death sentence, Duke. You… You can’t do this. Not you.”

“Why not me, Nate? Why is it okay for you to do it and not me?” They were dancing near the same dangerous subject they always started to skirt when they argued, when the tension was just high enough that it might have been an entirely different kind of tension.

Nathan’s eyes darted away. “It was my fault. All of this. Losing Audrey, the troubles, Duke…”

“Yeah, that’s noble and all, but not exactly the key to a girl’s heart—”

“I can’t lose you too.” Nathan’s voice was so quiet that Duke almost thought he’d imagined those words, but honestly even he wasn’t that creative. Even he couldn’t picture those five words coming from Nathan Wuornos with that much emotion, that much pain. “Not again.” 

“I already lost her,” He said. “And I’ll live with that. But I can’t live with losing you both.”

“Nathan…” Duke said, and he reached out, crossing the same distance that Nathan had earlier, but unlike Nathan, he didn’t hesitate. He took his hand.

“Duke, it has to be me. I know you like her, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry to do this to you again when you really have a chance but… but I can’t.”

“Nathan—”

He stood up. “I’ll do what I have to do.”

“Nathan!” Duke reached out and grabbed him, exactly as he had Lexie earlier. “I’m sorry too. But this isn’t just about us.” Part of him wanted to give Nathan this one, because he was that touched, not only that Nathan was trying to protect him, but also that he’d _admitted it_ , _out loud,_ in a room that had _other people_ in it.

But it wasn’t just about them. “Doing this will end the troubles,” He said. “I can do this faster. I’m not thrilled about it either, and if we come up with other ways, I’m all for it, but I can’t… I can’t not do this to spare your feelings, Nate. Not when we finally have a real shot at ending it.”

For a single second, Duke saw all the pain Nathan was feeling, and it nearly gutted him, but then Nathan locked it away under a very careful neutral expression. “Fine.”

“What—Fine? Just… just like that?”

Nathan shrugged. “Yeah. Go for it. Lexie’s all yours. I’ll stay out of it.” He left the coffee shop without another word.

Only with Nathan Wuornos could Duke win an argument and still feel like he’d lost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still feeling out what I want this fic to be, so bear with me, and please tell me what you like so I know to include more of it. Thanks to those of you who've read, thanks even more to those that left kudos, and the most thanks to the person who commented. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Enjoy!

Nathan had probably gotten too old for dramatically storming out of places whenever he was upset, but damn if Duke didn’t bring out immaturity in whoever was around him. Because this was Duke’s fault. Obviously.

He raked his hand through his hair, a habit developed back when he could actually feel the satisfying pull of it and not broken yet. If he were being honest—which he didn’t want to—he would recognize that this was not actually Duke’s fault, or really anyone’s fault except for his.

_If I hadn’t blown up the barn._

_If I hadn’t let her go in._

_If I had just let her go._

None of this would have happened if he had just been more like Duke. More willing to accept that some things were awful but unchangeable. He had refused, and now the barn was gone, the troubles were still here, and he’d lost Audrey. 

He was also going to lose Lexie, and he wasn’t even sure if he was upset about that or not. Frankly, he had too many other things to be upset about to really concern himself with how he did or did not feel about Lexie.

Duke—as much as it pained Nathan to admit it—probably had a point when he’d said that Nathan couldn’t love Lexie until he’d really grieved and let go of Audrey, which he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to do. She hovered in the corner of his mind no matter what he was doing, both as a reality of someone he’d lost, and as a tantalizing, haunting, ‘what if’.

What if he hadn’t let her push him away?

What if he’d gone into the barn with her?

What if they hadn’t wasted so much time dancing around each other, unsure?

This was one of hundreds of reasons that not being able to feel was terrible. Pain could clear his head. He remembered that the cold had always done that, and now he walked through the streets of Haven knowing it was cold but unable to feel it. He was stuck in an endless loop of bad thoughts that wouldn’t go away because, really, what the hell else did he have to think about?

His phone rang, almost as if it were trying to challenge that idea. “Nathan, hon, we’ve got a situation out by Potter’s field.”

Nathan sighed and made an effort to ensure that his tone wouldn’t reveal anything he’d just been wrestling with. “Thanks, Laverne, I’m on my way.”

At least he didn’t have to be chief on top of everything else. Dwight was willing and capable, and honestly more stable than Nathan had ever been while he was doing the job. Nathan was entirely too used to his father’s disappointment to be bothered by the fact that he would be rolling in his cooler if he knew this was how all his “training” had turned out.

At least when he was driving, he could force himself to focus on the road and not his thoughts. He pretended that he needed to pay attention to streets and landmarks and turns that he’d known all his life and could probably drive with his eyes closed.

When he made it out to the field, he found with some relief that it wasn’t a trouble, just two brothers in a heated fight over their father’s will. If they’d just settled it in their yard, away from where Mrs. Lewis was mourning her husband, Nathan never would have needed to be involved.

He separated them, grandstanded some about wanting to throw them in a holding cell for a bit before they cooled off, but ultimately told them to settle it with words and let them off with a warning.

Mrs. Lewis tottered over after they had left but before he’d managed to escape to his truck. “Nathan! How are you?”

“Doing alright,” He lied.

She smiled. “That’s nice to hear. And how’s Audrey? I heard there was an accident and she’s got some kind of amnesia?”

Sometimes he had to remind himself that he loved Haven—enough to die for it and its occupants—because small towns were the fucking worst. “Yes. She… that’s why she was gone so long.”

“Well that’s just awful. I hope she feels better soon. Maybe I’ll bring dinner over, or a pie!” With that, Mrs. Lewis wandered away, probably to discuss recipes with her husband’s tombstone.

Nathan gritted his teeth, wondering if he was doing damage, wondering if he would know if he did. _I hope she feels better._ Like Audrey had come down with a bad cold, rather than being erased and recorded over like a videotape. Nathan wanted to break something, wanted to scream or cry or drive to Lexie’s house and beg her, just for a minute, to pretend she was Audrey, to try to act like her.

But he just drove home.

There was no trouble. No reason to ask Lexie to leave the work that she clearly loved almost as much as Audrey had loved being a detective, and that was more relief than anything else. It still hurt Nathan to see her. It was, for him, still impossible to see Lexie as anything other than the person who had stolen Audrey from him. Someone who was wearing her like Arla had worn Claire.

He had thought, maybe, on the day Duke had been possessed, that he had seen hints, flashes of those qualities that Sarah and Audrey had shared, that maybe underneath all of Lexie’s… Lexiness there was that core person that he had loved, but he didn’t know how to find her, didn’t know how to ask Lexie to put herself aside and be someone else.

Duke was right. He couldn’t do it. Not now. Not yet, at least.

But why did it have to be Duke?

He had known from the start that Lexie would be better suited to Duke. Any idiot could see that, and Nathan was not just any idiot. He knew Duke. Knew his type better than probably anybody else in Haven. Duke liked outsiders, loners, sarcastic people. He liked people he could protect.

Nathan had hoped that—had planned, even—for Lexie to love him and kill him, and then maybe, after grieving if they needed to, she and Duke could be happy together. They both deserved that. Whoever Audrey had started out as deserved that, after everything she had been through, being erased and rewritten so many times. Duke deserved that for everything he had been through, things Nathan himself had put him through.

And now, here was Duke, stubborn, righteous Duke, stepping in to ruin this plan. It chafed at Nathan that Duke was telling him what he could and couldn’t do, but it chafed worse that he was right.

In order to love someone, really love them, they had to love you back at least a little, and Nathan simply couldn’t give that to Lexie right now, or possibly ever. Audrey Parker was not the kind of girl you got over.

For lack of anything better to do, he went back to his office to “work” which mostly consisted of staring vacantly at what had been Audrey’s desk, hoping something distracting would come in so that he wouldn’t have to keep thinking about all this.

Before he had quite made it there, Dwight called to him. “Hey, Nathan, got a second?”

He did, but he didn’t want to talk to Dwight. Still, he didn’t have a ready excuse, so he crossed the bullpen and stepped into the chief’s office.

“So, how’s it going?” It wasn’t a casual greeting question; Dwight was definitely asking about some specific ‘it’.

“What?” Playing dumb was easier than answering the question.

“With Lexie? You know, with… the plan?”

 _Oh, right, suicide dating._ “There’s been… a change of plans.”

“Nathan…”

“She doesn’t like me, Dwight. What do you want me to do about that?”

Dwight’s jaw flexed. “This is the only way to stop the troubles. It’s hard and it’s crazy, but it’s the only—”

“Duke is going to do it.”

Now it’s was Dwight’s turn to let out a flat, confused, “What?”

Nathan sighed. “Duke likes Lexie; she likes him. Match made in Haven.”

He could actually hear Dwight gritting his teeth, even from across the room. “Nathan… I gotta be honest here, part of the reason this plan was even accepted in the first place was because it ended with _you_ dead, which the guard wants. Badly.”

Nathan shrugged. “Well, then I guess they don’t have to wait for Audrey… Lexie to do it anymore. Tell your friends it’s Nathan season.”

Dwight let out a long breath and sat heavily in his chair. “I’m not going to do that, Nathan.”

He said nothing. He was reaching a point where he cared very little how this conversation went.

“The guard… they’re just angry right now. Jordan got them all stirred up, but it’ll blow over after some time, especially now that Lexie is helping with the troubles. You know that I don’t want you dead, right?”

Nathan shrugged.

Dwight’s jaw flexed again, and Nathan had to admit it was a little satisfying to know that he was getting under his skin. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you right now, man, but you have to pull yourself together. Haven needs you. I need you. Hell, Lexie and Duke—if that’s even a thing—need you. Take some time if you need it but deal with your shit; you’re acting like a fucking teenager.”

It was the most Nathan had ever heard Dwight swear, and it probably should have alarmed him that someone who was normally so calm and unflappable was actually, genuinely pissed off. It didn’t.

When he still didn’t say anything, Dwight rolled his eyes. “Just go home.”

He did. He wasn’t sure what he would do with free time—being alone hadn’t actually been good for him lately—but what the hell else was he supposed to do?

What was another night spent in a dark, empty apartment, which was probably cold but how the hell should he know?

* * *

Lexie was not a morning person, but her new—read: Audrey’s old—apartment was mostly glass and right by the ocean, which meant that the early light streamed into room, waking her whether she wanted it or not. At first it had driven her insane, and she’d considered many drastic measures, including blackout curtains and boarding up everything even remotely transparent, but it was starting to grow on her.

For a town with such an ugly underbelly, it sure had beautiful sunrises. Bypassing getting dressed, she stepped onto the balcony in just Duke’s shirt, which she had unapologetically stolen. If he wanted to be vague and weird and hypocritical, then she was damn well going to steal his shirt.

“How did you put up with this?” She muttered to her imaginary Audrey. “All the secrets and lies and weird shit?”

In her mind, Audrey smiled and flipped perfect, yellow-gold hair. “No one lied to me, no one kept secrets. They all liked me too much.”

Somehow, her imaginary Audrey looked less like Lexie and more like the cheerleader in high school who had called Lexie a whore while playing with the expensive gold cross necklace she always wore outside of her designer pastel shirts.

A sudden image flashed in her mind, of her hands clutching a gun, which she knew had just been fired. In front of her, a man wearing all black was falling to the ground.

Lexie flinched backwards. _Audrey shot a preacher?_ Lexie wasn’t exactly a choir girl but that was on a whole other level. Maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t built the most accurate image of what Audrey parker had been like.

She was pulled out of these—completely unwanted—thoughts when she heard footsteps on the stairs.

“Wow…” Duke whistled through his teeth. “You know, they say the Gull has the best views in Haven, but—”

She forced herself not to smile. She didn’t want to smile at him, because she wanted to be mad at him. Mad was easy. Whatever the little flutter in her stomach had been was difficult and complicated and she would not acknowledge it.

“I brought coffee,” He said, with a little more contrition.

She chewed her lip. “Spiked?”

“Not this time,” He replied, “But it’s good stuff.”

She took it, and he was right, it was good, but it wasn’t her coffee order. “For future reference, I like a triple americano with sugar.”

“So that means I’m allowed to bring you coffee in the future?”

 _Shit._ He’d outplayed her, so she had to accept defeat. “Fine.”

“Lex, I wanted to apologize about the other day. This whole thing with Audrey… for me, it was just a few weeks ago. You have all these memories. I don’t. I was gone for six months but it felt like minutes to me. It’s still… still weird.”

“I’m not her,” Lexie said, for what felt like the millionth time. She’d said it to him, said it to Nathan, said it to cops and customers and coffee sellers and even to her own reflection.

“I know that,” Duke said, stepping forward. “I don’t want you to be her.”

It shouldn’t have felt like the balcony had caved in underneath her, or like she’d decided to dive headfirst into the freezing ocean before, but it did. At once breathless and lurching, the feeling swallowed her whole and she had to let it wash over her before she could even begin to think of a response.

That was what she had wanted. That was all she had wanted from anyone in Haven since the second the dying barn had spat her out on that hill. She didn’t just want them to realize she wasn’t Audrey. She wanted them to be glad she was _her_.

“Lex?”

She set the coffee down very carefully, afraid of spilling it. Then she stepped forward and pulled Duke into a very tight hug, trying very hard not to cry on his shirt.

His hand—god, those hands, had she realized how big they were before this moment?—slid down and rested in the hollow of her back, holding her where she was.

She let go after a second, breathing out in a long, relieved sigh. “Sorry… I just—”

“It’s okay, really.” He was still standing closer than he needed to, and she liked that. Carefully, he reached up and brushed a wayward strand of hair out of her face. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I’m just… it’s nice that someone doesn’t wish I was someone else.”

He nodded, listening rather than answering.

“I don’t hate Nathan,” She told him, not entirely sure why. “Just… I can see it, every time he looks at me. I can see how much he wants to see something _Audrey_.”

That was why she liked taking her little digs at him, liked mocking him because she was sure Audrey wouldn’t have. He hurt her with every glance; it was nice to hurt him back a little.

“He doesn’t… he doesn’t mean to be like that.”

“You always defend him,” She said.

“Nathan and I have a… complicated relationship.” 

“Bad breakup?”

Duke choked on his coffee. “It’s not—”

“That was not a no.”

“It wasn’t a yes, either,” Duke said. “We weren’t really together but… admittedly we also weren’t… not together.”

She half snorted half sighed. “Just like everything in Haven, clear as mud.”

He shrugged. “If I could explain it, I would.”

“But you loved each other?”

He stared out at the ocean and the violently bright sun rising over it and shrugged. “Still do, in some way.”

“Would he say the same thing?”

“Are you a therapist or something?” He attempted half a smile, and she could see him trying to move this back into safe territory.

She smirked. “I’m a therapist for people without health insurance. In other words, a bartender.” She chose not to push him, figuring she knew the answer. Instead, she shifted them so they were shoulder to shoulder, leaning on the railing and staring out at the sunlit water.

“Thanks,” She said quietly. “For the uh coffee.”

His lips quirked into a half-smile. “You’re welcome.”

“So… um… how’d you get into the restaurant business?”

His smile widened just a little bit. “By accident.”

“What, you accidentally bought this place?”

“I did.”

“I’m calling bullshit on that,” She bumped her shoulder against his, partially to show she was teasing and partially because well… his shoulders.

“I’m telling god’s honest truth. I didn’t know what was in the box when I paid for it.”

“You bought a box, not knowing what was in it, and it contained… a restaurant?”

“Yep.” He smiled and took pity on her after a moment. “Friend of mine had to sell because of his trouble. He rots things he eats when he gets stressed.”

“Gross?”

“Very,” Duke shuddered, and Lexie was glad Audrey had been the one to handle that; she could imagine the smell. “But his brother had just died, and he didn’t want some fast food place or something taking it over.”

“It’s impressive, what you’ve done with it, given that you’ve never owned one before.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been in and around the food and bev industry for a while, especially when I was younger, before I left Haven and between jobs.”

“What jobs?”

He looked at her sideways. “Smuggling,” He finally said. “And other assorted…”

“Crimes?”

“Yeah.” He studied her face. “Is that okay?”

She smiled. “I don’t know about Audrey, but Lexie is no stranger to crime. Hell, I could help you with it.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I think it wouldn’t be worth Nathan and Dwight killing me.”

“Christ, how many guys did Audrey—”

“No, Dwight’s not… he just needs your help with the troubles.”

“Right.” She sighed. “The troubles.”

“If it makes you feel any better, that’s how everyone feels about them.”

“It doesn’t.” She picked a wood splinter off of the railing and tossed it into the water, watching the ripples disappear into the waves. “Everyone wants me to be wonder woman and I don’t know how else to tell them that I’m not.”

“Audrey wasn’t wonder woman either.”

“Really?”

“No. She wore four layers and all of them were beige. Not exactly a patriotic leotard.”

Lexie tried to smile for his benefit, though the joke was lackluster at best. “Thanks.”

“And whatever else you are, Lex,” Duke said, “You’re a very good bartender.”

“Oh, so you won’t fire me for that wine glass last night?”

He glared at her, but she saw the humor in it easily. “No, but don’t do it again.”

Hours later, she recalled the conversation with some irony. A customer was getting into her face about his wine being off, which it wasn’t. Still, knowing her duty, she slapped a smile on and got him another glass of the same thing, per his request.

That one, apparently, was bad too, which is when Lexie started to get pissed. Her customer service smile was still firmly in place, but she knew there was an edge to it, could feel the corners of it digging into her cheeks.

“Why is it so hard for you to just get me my goddamn wine?”

Lexie’s eyes narrowed. “I gave you—”

“This is shameful,” He cut her off. “Just get me a beer.”

She did as she was told, happy to get away from him for a bit. The rest of the meal was less hostile, but she felt like she was walking on tiptoes around him, which just made her angrier. Guys like that wanted girls walking carefully around them; they got off on it.

After she had put the check down—sure she wasn’t getting a tip but glad the ordeal was over—she started to walk away but he waved her back with an impatient, “Miss?”

“Yeah?”

He frowned and waved his bill in front of her face. “You charged me for the beer.”

“Yes.”

“You should have given it to me because you stocked bad wine.”

Lexie snorted impulsively at that but regretted it immediately. The guy stood, facing off with her and she glanced around, hoping to spot Duke, but he wasn’t on the floor.

She hated needing to look for him, but this guy was built like a brick shithouse and looked just as appealing. If it came down to a fight, she wanted Duke on her side.

“This is horrible customer service. You served shit wine without apologies, then think you’ve got the right to be a smartass about it? You have no idea—”

“Problem?” Lexie tried not to jump when Duke appeared behind her. “Lexie, go take care of your other tables; I’ll handle this.”

That felt like giving in to the guy, and she didn’t want that, but she did have other people to deal with, so she retreated and let Duke deal with it.

The next time she looked back the dick was gone, and so was Duke.

When she got home, she was still pissed about the whole ordeal. She hated that people like him got to stomp around yelling and making demands, and other people—better people—would give in just to make them shut up and go away.

She wasn’t a stranger to this kind of restlessness, though she hadn’t experienced it yet in Haven, which meant that she technically hadn’t experienced it before. God, that line of thinking only made it worse. In the memories she had, she dealt with this often, feeling like running away was the only option. When it wasn’t an option, she settled for just running.

Audrey Parker, she guessed, had not been a runner. Her hiking boots were well worn, but her sneakers were shiny-new and shoved to the bottom of the haphazard shoe bin she kept. Lexie dug them out, put them on with a pair of leggings, and took off.

There were a lot of bad things to say about Haven, Maine, but it was a good place to run. The streets were wide and empty at this time of night, and unlike the cities Lexie hadn’t actually lived in, it was safe to go running at night, which she liked. Her feet ached from spending her shift on her feet, but that faded to new aches in her muscles as she worked, pushed.

This was how to get tired, this was how to outrun anger, confusion, fake memories, and so, so many secrets. She pushed, further and further, into a residential area dotted with streetlamps, taking turns at random.

Shortly thereafter, she started to realize her mistake. Haven _felt_ familiar, but it wasn’t really, not in her memories. Which meant that, while Audrey would have certainly been able to navigate her way back home, Lexie was completely lost.

She stopped under a streetlight to get her bearings, taking a few long breaths as she did. She hadn’t brought a phone, didn’t have a map, wasn’t sure if she would be able to retrace her steps down the dark streets. She looked up, staring at the direction from which she’d come, trying to parse out how she’d gotten here.

With her head totally wrapped up in navigation, she didn’t hear him come up behind her, or even notice him until it was too late.

His hands wrapped around her throat, tight, strangling. She choked, coughing for a second before she didn’t even have enough air to do that.

Maintaining his grip on the back of her throat, he turned her around to face him. She stared, taking a moment to register his face though the haze that was gathering in her eyes. It was the angry wine guy from the Gull, his face flushed red, twisted with rage and made eerie by streetlight shadows. His eyes were fixed on her face, but blank, empty of the rage that was everywhere else in his expression. 

_Not normal_ , Her brain flashed, while she was caught up in a struggle to stay conscious, to fight back, get free.

She fought, but she had no leverage; the guy was massive, and she had no way to break his grip and get enough air to gather the strength she needed. Just as she started to slip into unconsciousness, her body—or some other force that was trapped in her head—took over, on pure instinct, she rammed her knee up, twisted in a way that should have taken training, practice, and kicked out, freeing herself.

She didn’t have time to take the several long breaths she needed. He was recovering faster than she would, so she darted off, sprinting with whatever strength she had left down the street. The same instinct that had taught her the kung Fu that had freed her was directing, guiding her down a couple more streets to a small, yellow house.

There wasn’t time for hesitating; she pounded on the door, wishing she could scream, but not able to take in enough air for that. The man was closing in behind her. If this door didn’t open—

“What the—” She swore she could see the moment Cop Nathan took over from Drowsy Confused Nathan. Some shift in his posture, his expression, and suddenly he had wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her inside and slamming the door behind them, just as the man made it to the porch.

Lexie flinched when she heard his fists hit the door, pounding against it as he shouted something she couldn’t make out through the sturdy wood.

Next to her, Nathan was still in Cop Mode, reaching past Lexie to grab his gun belt off a nearby hook.

 _He should really keep that locked up,_ Lexie thought, ridiculously given the circumstances.

“Sir,” He called out, “This is Haven PD, you need to stand down!”

The man didn’t pause, might not have even heard Nathan for all the difference it made.

Nathan went to the nearest window and looked out while Lexie hovered near him, still trying to breathe and feeling completely useless. He was taking aim, his face grim when Lexie finally felt herself snap back into place.

“Wait!” She reached out, putting her hand on top of Nathan’s on the gun and he froze. “I think he’s troubled. There was something… I don’t know just something wrong with his eyes. I don’t think… I don’t think that was him.”

Slowly, Nathan nodded and lowered his gun. “So, what do you want to do? Talk to him?”

She thought back to those blank eyes, staring at her while he choked the life out of her. “I don’t think he’s going to listen.”

Nathan frowned, gritted his teeth, and turned away from her, walking further into the house. For a second, Lexie was stuck, not sure if she should follow him or continue hovering here, listening to the man pound on the door.

He returned after a moment; phone pressed to his ear. “—Not sure what’s going on,” He was saying, “Trouble, probably. But this guy’s angry. Yeah. Thanks.” He hung up. “Duke will be here soon.”

Lexie felt her heart rate pick up. “To do what?”

Nathan shrugged. “Scare the guy off, maybe. Not sure what we can do from in here and I don’t want to leave you alone.”

She didn’t want either of them facing off with the angry man, but Duke at least had the advantage of getting super strength if the fight got bad. “Okay.”

He gestured for her to follow him, leading her just a couple steps into the kitchen, which she noticed was covered in little notes, but it was too dark for her to read them. After a minute of digging around in his freezer, he pulled out a bag of frozen peas. “For your throat.”

She nodded. “Thanks.”

Were silences with him always this charged? Was this an awkward silence or was he thinking about the trouble, the danger? Why hadn’t she noticed the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt until right this second?

Abruptly, the pounding on the door stopped, in time for her to hear tires squealing down the road, approaching the house. Lexie ran to the window, trying not to obnoxiously press her face against it to see what was happening. Duke jumped out of his car, which barely seemed to have stopped, much less parked, and ran at the man. They scuffled for a moment before he somehow got out of Duke’s grasp and managed to run away down the street.

She could see the conflict on Duke’s face, before he decided to leave the man and go check on her.

Nathan moved to open the door before Duke even had a chance to knock or pull it off its hinges.

“Lexie?” She couldn’t deny the thrill of… something that ran through her at the sound of raw concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Her voice came out weaker than she’d wanted it to, belying her words. She pressed the peas closer against her throat.

Duke put his hands on her shoulders, and she could see him considering a hug as he searched her face. Whatever he saw there must have changed his mind, because he thought better of it and stepped back. She was glad; the idea of a hug was nice, but being wrapped up, held and unable to break free, made her feel a bit ill right now.

“What happened?” His eyes darted between her and Nathan, waiting for one of them to answer.

“It was the guy from the Gull, the angry one from earlier. He… I don’t know just attacked me. I thought he was going to kill me.”

“You thought he was troubled?”

She shrugged, no longer as sure as she had been. “There was something weird about his eyes, when he—” Her breath caught, and she couldn’t keep going.

Duke led her to the kitchen table, flicking a lamp on as they sat down. She tried not to be surprised that he was so familiar with Nathan’s house, navigating in the dark easily. “It’s okay,” He whispered, then froze, staring at his now-illuminated hand.

There was blood smeared across it.

Lexie’s first thought was that it was his, and she was worried, but he had no visible injuries. Then she wondered if it might be hers, but she had no idea where it had come from.

Duke was breathing hard, staring at the blood. “Nathan?”

“Are you okay?” Nathan asked, multitudes contained in the three-word question.

“Yes…”

“So that guy wasn’t troubled.” Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two stay here. Go over what happened and see if you can figure out what’s going on. I have to go to the station.”

“What, now?” Duke asked. “Why?”

Nathan’s jaw flexed. “If there’s a trouble that’s making people murderously angry, we’re going to have a busy night. Not everyone will get away.”

That was a dark thought, and one Lexie very definitely didn’t like. “I can—”

“Stay,” Nathan said quietly. “Maybe this happened at the Gull, one of you might have seen something. Go back over it. I’ll check in later.”

Later would be tomorrow, Lexie knew, given how late it already was. She nodded. “Um, be careful.”

A small, pained expression crossed his face, but he nodded and left.

* * *

Duke wasn’t sure what to do with himself now that he was standing in Nathan’s kitchen with Lexie, who was still shaking slightly, pressing a bag of frozen peas against her rapidly bruising throat.

The question he wanted to ask— _Are you okay?_ —was so utterly stupid he couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. Of course she wasn’t okay. Why would she be? He hesitated before reaching for her again, holding his breath until she leaned into the touch.

“It was so weird,” She said, her voice a hoarse rasp. “He was pissed at the Gull, but normal ‘I’m an asshole in a restaurant’ pissed, not… not this.” She looked up at him. “Did you see him talk to anyone else?”

It was one of the first times she’d really reminded him of Audrey. It would be just like her to ignore her own injuries and wellbeing to seek out a troubled person. Maybe that, Duke thought, was one of the things that made her whoever she was underneath the fake memories.

Great. Even when she was Lexie he’d get blown off so she could fight troubles.

Strangely the thought made him smile a little bit.

“Duke?”

“Huh?”

She frowned. “Did you notice him talking to anyone else?”

“No,” He said. “It was crowded.” _And I was watching you the whole time._

She sighed. “That’s what worries me. Don’t tell him I said this, but Nathan’s right; this could get really bad. We have no idea how many people might have been effected.” She chewed on her lip, passing it through her teeth over and over in a way that should not have been so distracting, given the circumstances.

“We don’t need to worry about that right now,” Duke said quietly, stepping closer. He’d let go of her, but they stayed close. No more professional distance; Lexie had no problem being in other people’s space. “You can worry about yourself.”

She looked away, studying Nathan’s dated flooring intently. “I’m fine.”

“Lex…” He placed two careful fingers under her jaw, lifting it so she would look at him. “It’s okay if you aren’t.”

“No, it’s not. Audrey wouldn’t be, so I can’t be.”

“Lex…” He said again, and he slid his hand further back so he was cupping her jaw, brushing her cheek with his thumb.

“Don’t, Duke. Don’t lie and tell me I don’t have to be like her. People could die in this one and sooner or later, I’m going to have to solve it and I can’t do that. Lexie can’t do that. I have to be more like her right now.”

“Le—”

“If you say my name one more time, I’ll throw these peas at you.” Her jaw set and she glared up at him through her thick and now slightly smudged eyeliner.

“Fine, but really, you don’t have to—”

“She saved me.”

Duke felt his stomach turn over, twisting like seasickness. “What?”

Lexie shook her head. “He was strangling me, and I couldn’t get free but… then I knew these moves and I was running and… how else would I know where Nathan lives? It was her. It had to be.”

 _Fuck._ Now that changed things. That changed everything, if what she was saying was true. If Audrey was still there somewhere then Nathan… but then what would happen to Lexie?

“Lex…” He closed his eyes, breathed through his nose. “You can’t tell Nathan that.” He would hate Duke forever if he ever found out about this. They’d been almost friends since Duke had returned, had begun to build the bridges they’d both burned so graphically, and this would start the fire all over again. There would be no rebuilding after this.

He told himself it was just until he was sure. He told himself it was just to protect Lexie. But he knew, quietly, that he’d finally gotten tired of sacrificing.

Duke had been willing to die for Audrey, had gone into the barn without hesitating, not knowing what would happen, on the off-chance he could pull her out. He had gotten spit back out in a fish tank in Boston and come running back to Haven, only to find that at the same time, Lexie had been spit out too.

Not Audrey. Lexie.

And Lexie liked him. He’d been willing to die for a girl who didn’t even want him. Why shouldn’t he tell a little lie, hide a couple small details, for a chance with one who did?

“I won’t,” Lexie said quietly. “But… what does it mean?”

Duke just shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe… maybe her memories are in there somewhere, and you can, I don’t know, access them when you panic. It doesn’t… it doesn’t change anything.”

Lexie looked like she saw his lie, but whatever she was thinking kept her from voicing it.

The silence stretched on, and Duke found himself looking around as if Nathan’s house might tattle on him and reveal his lie.

“Duke?” Lexie said quietly, “Can you take me home?”

He nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

They drove back to the Gull in silence, Lexie staring out the window at the dark town, though he doubted she was seeing anything.

“He’s still out there,” Lexie said, almost startling him.

Duke felt his jaw clench. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

A small, bitter laugh escaped her lips. “They always say that.”

“I mean it, Lex; I won’t let him hurt you.” 

“What, because I let him hurt me the first time?” She snapped.

Duke understood. Anger was easier than fear; it made sense that she would lash out, but that didn’t entirely ease the sting. “That’s not what I meant. Your apartment’s pretty secure, but I’ll double-check when we get there and Nathan will probably have a cruiser come by a few times a night, too, at least until this trouble’s over.”

Lexie went back to staring out the window. “Great. A police detail.”

“And I’m going to stay downstairs,” He said. “Just in case.”

She turned to stare at him, and he fixed his eyes on the road, a mask of neutrality. “Why downstairs?”

A shiver crawled up his spine. It was almost a good feeling, but a little dangerous. “What?”

“Why are you staying downstairs? There can’t be anywhere comfortable to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places.” He considered rattling off a few of them, just to get them away from this conversation, which was suddenly making him nervous.

“Duke,” She said quietly. “Stay with me.”

They were pulling into the Gull’s parking lot, her apartment dark above it. He knew he could run, stop himself from rubbing salt into Nathan’s wounds and just stay in the restaurant, listening in case something happened.

But really, as much as he cared about Nathan, he didn’t want to do this. _The universe owes me,_ he thought again. _I’m taking my chance._

They walked up to her apartment together, and he found himself looking around, seeing the slight changes she’d made now that the place was no longer Audrey’s. He liked it, the rougher edge, the things she’d left lying around instead of returning to their proper place, the knickknacks she’d relocated or discarded.

“I’m going to shower,” She said, interrupting his comparison. “Promise you’ll still be here when I get back?”

She peeled her shirt off without waiting for an answer and he stared at the expanse of skin under her bra, his mouth very dry.

Lexie was already gone when he whispered, “I promise.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Lexie wasn’t sure what she was doing. Asking Duke to stay had been genuine; she didn’t want to be alone right now, and she was more than a little scared that guy would find her and finish her off, but maybe taking her shirt off in front of him had been calculated. Maybe she wanted to know if he would look. Maybe she wanted to know where she stood.

 _You can’t tell Nathan about this._ She remembered how serious his eyes had been when he’d said that, serious and so, so sad.

Not that she’d been planning to tell Nathan that, or anything else for that matter. He hadn’t asked how she’d found his house and she hadn’t volunteered the information, for which she was glad. He didn’t really seem like the kind of guy she could _tell_ things to. He seemed to serious, too stern, like he would judge or worse, try to solve her problems.

Audrey, she knew, had probably told him things. Audrey had seen something in him worth trusting, but Lexie had yet to uncover whatever side of him that had been.

 _He’s been through a lot,_ An oft-ignored charitable part of her brain reminded her. _Maybe he was different when she knew him._

Duke had known him back then too, though, and he seemed to agree with Lexie in terms of whether or not to share information with him. Hell, he’d specifically said not to.

She let scalding water run over her skin, forcing herself to pretend that she couldn’t feel the sting of it on the skin her angry customer had rubbed raw earlier. Another trouble, and another chance to dig herself even further into this town, until she’d gone so deep she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to make her way out.

But then again, had she ever really wanted out? From the very first trouble, from the first moment where the guard had been trying to get her to shoot Nathan, had she ever really _not_ been invested?

She wasn’t sure if the part of her that cared so much—about the troubles, the guard, the barn, Nathan, Duke, all of it—was her or Audrey or that part at the very center that was capital H _Her._ For now, it didn’t have to matter. It was a trouble, and a dangerous one, and with or without help from her brain hijacker, she would solve it.

But first, she needed to deal with the elephant in her room. Or rather, the smuggler.

She wrapped a towel around herself, drying off her hair as best she could and resigning herself to the disaster it would be tomorrow, and then emerged from the bathroom.

Duke looked up, stared for a second, and then dropped his head back to whatever he’d been looking at.

Despite all the craziness, a slow flush crawled up her skin. She would never get over the way he _looked_ at her. The heat and intensity and something soft and almost sad underneath all of that.

 _All I’m looking for is one decent guy,_ She’d told Rhonda in the bar that wasn’t, and she was pretty sure she had met one.

Her throat still hurt, and part of her was more than a little nervous about being touched. She jumped at every noise, even ones that were familiar to her after a few days staying in the apartment. All in all, she knew she was not ready to take any kind of step closer to what she wanted with—and from—Duke.

Still, it didn’t hurt to test the waters, and she really did feel safer with him around.

“Feel any better?” He asked, and she wondered if he was keeping his voice low like that on purpose, trying not to scare her.

She nodded and went behind the screen to change into pajamas. She had a lot of complaints about Audrey’s wardrobe, but she had to admit that the woman did not lack loungewear, something Lexie had never really invested in, but found she actually really enjoyed, especially now when sleeping in her underwear would have felt far too vulnerable.

Duke watched her emerge, staring with that same intensity.

“Tomorrow we can go through the credit card slips and stuff, maybe our guy will be in there,” She says, mostly because she needs to say something, and this most recent trouble is nice, neutral territory.

Mostly.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Duke said quickly. “You have enough on your mind right now.”

“Like murdering Nathan to stop the troubles? Still not down for that plan, by the way.”

Duke flinched. “No, just… taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, I think that’ll be easier when there’s not a crazy rage guy after me.”

He nodded. “Yeah, fair enough. Look, if you don’t want to be involved in this one, we’d understand, we can—”

“God, I can’t believe I’m saying this twice in one night, but Nathan was right about this one getting bad. You need my help if we want to solve it quickly.”

“You don’t have to,” He told her, reaching out and grabbing her hand. “We can solve this, hell, we can deal with all of them if you don’t want. You have a choice.”

She laughed humorlessly. “Do I? Like you do, Mr. Freaky Silver Eyes Blood Guy?”

His face twisted strangely, and she couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or get angry. “I’m still trying to have a choice,” He replied, unexpectedly sincere. “You should too.”

As tempting as it was to make another joke, she responded to his earnestness. “I want to do this. I want to help. I know I’m… I know I’m not Audrey, but I can still do some of this stuff.”

He nodded. “At least you can do it without killing anyone.”

“Audrey shot a reverend,” Lexie said. “So, apparently killing is just part of the job.”

“He wasn’t troubled,” Duke said, “He was just a dick.”

“She killed him for being a dick? How the—” And Nathan was worried she wasn’t stable enough for this job? Lexie had her wild streak, but she didn’t shoot people just for pissing her off.

“He was going to kill a kid, and she _was_ troubled. It was… things were weird back then.”

“Are things ever not weird here?”

Duke thought, so carefully that Lexie was sure he was joking, before he shrugged. “Nope.”

She smiled and settled next to him on the couch, much closer than she technically had to. “Can you… can you tell me about one that ended well?”

“What?”

“A trouble that ended well. That happens, right? Not just… not just like the tides guy where he didn’t destroy everything, but one where people ended up happy.”

“The troubles don’t make people happy.” His face, previously open, almost laughing, had closed off, something dark underneath the surface.

“But… isn’t there one that…” She thought about the troubles she’d seen, weather and tides and body switching, and the ones she’d heard about, de-aging, skin stealing, ghosts. Duke was right; there was no good here. No wonder they were so desperate to end them by any means necessary.

Duke sighed, and she wondered if somehow, he’d picked up on her thoughts. “They aren’t… they aren’t all bad. Some are… manageable. And… okay, there was a funny one.”

She swallowed. “Look, it doesn’t matter. It was a dumb question, I just thought—”

“So you don’t want to hear about the Christmas trouble?”

“Wait, the what?”

“Christmas.”

“Like, the holiday?”

“Yep.”

She smiled. “I do want to hear about the Christmas trouble.” Throwing on a mask of complete un-self-consciousness, Lexie settled into the couch, curling her legs underneath her and resting her head on Duke’s shoulder. He was warm and comforting, and whatever fear that had been lingering since her shower melted into the background of her mind.

If he thought she was acting strange, or minded at all, Duke didn’t say anything. He told her about a trouble that made everyone believe it was Christmas in July, which is how he ended up trying to trouble-fight while wearing a Santa suit.

Relaxed, and not overly interested in hearing the part where Audrey saved the day, Lexie let herself drift off.

* * *

Duke kept talking even after Lexie was asleep. He usually wasn’t a nervous talker, preferring to keep his mouth shut if he didn’t know what to say, but telling Lexie about troubles was easier than looking down and seeing her head resting on his shoulder, face soft with sleep.

When he had run out of things to say, he searched her face again, finding it still completely relaxed. Shifting very carefully, he moved out from under her so he could get an arm under her knees and the other behind her back. Carefully, trying desperately not to jostle her too much, he lifted her up.

She shifted just slightly, just enough to keep her head rested on his shoulder as he carried her the few steps to the bed. He laid her on it carefully, feeling something pull tight in his chest, somewhere behind his heart.

After pulling the quilt up over her, he stood back and watched her for a moment. _This isn’t one of Audrey’s shitty vampire books. Watching people sleep isn’t cool._

Even under torture he never would have admitted to reading those books just because Audrey liked them. He wondered, still not looking away, what Lexie liked to read, and if it would be any more tolerable.

Finally, whatever chivalry he had in him won the moment, and he turned away from her, wandering around the apartment to turn off all the lamps so he could let her rest.

After the last one was switched off, he heard her stir. “Duke?” Her voice was barely a murmur. He doubted she was even fully awake, would even notice if he didn’t respond.

But he couldn’t let her think he’d broken his promise and left. “Still here, Lex.”

She murmured something again, which he couldn’t quite make out. “Come back,” She finally managed.

He froze, eyes flicking between the couch he’d thought he’d be sleeping on and the bed she seemed to be inviting him into. “Lexie…”

“Please.”

One word completely shattered his control, and he walked back over to the bed. He didn’t bother to take off his shoes, and he very deliberately left his clothes on, but he didn’t hesitate before curling around her and laying one arm over her abdomen, not quite holding her against him, but keeping her close enough that he would notice if she moved.

She was fully back to sleep in minutes, her breathing even and quiet. He could move now, and part of him knew he should. She was vulnerable, possibly traumatized. She would wake up tomorrow and wonder why the hell she’d wanted him here. He was basically a stranger, and one who’d dragged her into multiple dangerous situations.

He should leave.

But she was warm and soft next to him, her back pressed into his chest. How often had he imagined doing this with her? If he counted the times he’d imagined this with Audrey, he knew they numbered in the hundreds. It was finally real, and as chivalrous as he might try to be, he couldn’t pass the opportunity up.

He fell asleep like that, on top of the blankets, wrapped around Lexie, his shoes still on. It was the best night’s sleep he’d gotten since he found out about the Hunter meteor storm, hell, it might have been the best night’s sleep he’d gotten since he returned to Haven.

He woke with a start when Lexie began to stir, distancing himself carefully in case she regretted letting him sleep with her that night.

Instead of flinching away, Lexie rolled over to face him, staying close. “Morning.” Her voice was still slightly hoarse, and he could see the faintly purple bruises around her throat, but with how rough she had looked and sounded last night, he had to admit it was remarkable how well she’d healed.

“How are you feeling?”

She smiled and rested her forehead against his chest. “Good. You?”

“Good.” He didn’t want to tell her how good, didn’t want to say that this was the best he’d felt in ages, didn’t want her to know that he was wishing he could wake up like this every day for the rest of his life.

Though, if things went according to plan, he might be able to do this several times before she killed him.

“You feel like breakfast?” He asked, hoping that by saying sensible, normal words he wouldn’t say something stupid or—god forbid—romantic.

She shrugged and stretched. “Just coffee.”

He stood, stretching and trying to ignore the many regrets that came with sleeping in jeans and boots.

Lexie sat up and watched him while he moved around the kitchen making coffee. “Did you and Audrey sleep together?”

He flinched. “No, why… what?”

She looked away, studying her nails in a very obvious _See how much I don’t care_ attitude that he didn’t really believe. “You just seem to know your way around her place pretty well. You know right where to find her coffee.”

“I own this place,” He reminded her, “And Audrey and I were friends. Sometimes we had coffee together.” His tone came out shorter than he’d meant for it to, but he really didn’t want to talk about Audrey right now.

Lexie put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, whatever you say. Nathan wasn’t offended when I asked him.”

Apparently, the only person Duke wanted to talk about less than Audrey was Nathan. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows went up. “You don’t know?”

“I didn’t think they had,” He said. “Because Nathan is an idiot.”

“That’s basically what he told me.”

Duke nodded.

Lexie nodded.

It was awkward.

She stood up and poured herself a cup of coffee, surprising him when she turned her back on him and went outside to lean against the railing on the deck, staring out at the pale gray sky and silver water.

He followed her out, keeping his distance.

“Things get weird every time I mention her,” She said, still not looking at him. “And I want to stop bringing her up but… she was me. I used to be this other person and it’s so strange that I just want to know about her. I keep… I keep looking for something that’s the same with us. Something that didn’t go away.”

“I could tell you,” He said.

“You… yeah, tell me.”

“You’re brave,” He told her, stepping carefully closer until he was next to her, leaning against the railing. “You say what you mean, and you see things that other people don’t. You see people in a way that other people don’t. Or can’t.” He was watching her intently now. _Like you see me._

She turned, and they both seemed to realize simultaneously how close they were standing. He was leaning over her slightly, and she looked up at him so there was barely a breath of space between their faces.

He had time to think about backing away before Lexie stretched up to press her lips against his. It was not like Colorado, which had been slow, exploratory, hesitant. Lexie apparently didn’t do slow or hesitant, and fuck if Duke wasn’t grateful for that. He buried one hand in her hair, so much longer and thicker than Audrey’s, and then forgot to compare them at all when she opened her mouth to him.

“Lex,” He whispered against her lips, shifting so that she was wrapped in his arms, her pack pressed against the railing.

She smiled— _Smiled!_ —without breaking the kiss, which was somehow more arousing than if she had been deadly serious and moaning, though he certainly wouldn’t have minded a few moans.

He had no idea how far they would have gone right then if his phone hadn’t started ringing.

Seeing that it was Nathan, Duke had to collect himself for a moment before answering, somehow both pissed off and paranoid that Nathan would know what they had been up to.

“Last night was a mess,” Nathan said, “But it wasn’t just… it wasn’t just people attacking people. People were manic, some were hysterical, I talked to Lucassi at the Freddy and they’ve never gotten so many calls about panic attacks.”

“Shit,” Duke said, stepping away from Lexie, though she kept watching him with smiling eyes. He hated that the end of this phone call would end that smile. “Any pattern to it?”

_Please don’t say they were all at the Gull, please don’t say they were all at the Gull._

“Most of them were at the Gull last night. Have you heard from your staff?”

 _Shit._ “No, but it’s early; no reason to talk to any of them until later.”

Nathan seemed to consider this. “Think about checking in with them, just in case. Odds are our guy was at the Gull last night and the rest are people he ran into later.”

“I can go through the slips from last night. What am I looking for?”

Nathan shrugged. “I don’t even know. It seems like some kind of emotional amplification trouble, but I don’t know how we’d be able to tell who has it and who was just affected. Just see if there’s anyone who stands out to you, I guess.”

“The only person I remember from last night was the guy who yelled at Lexie. Any luck tracking him down?”

“All you gave me last night was that he was a white guy, average build—”

“And? Did you find him?”

“Duke, this is Maine, that’s most of the population.”

God, he hated it when Nathan decided to be a smartass. “I’ll see if Lexie and I can figure out a name for him. Let me know if anything new comes up.”

“How is she?” Nathan said, just before Duke hung up.

“Uh…” Duke wasn’t even sure he wanted to admit that they were together. The paranoia returned rapidly.

“You stayed with her last night, right?” Nathan was definitely angry, but Duke couldn’t figure out why. “For fuck’s sake, Duke, tell me you didn’t leave her alone.”

“What? No, I didn’t leave her. She’s fine, well, as fine as anyone would be.”

Nathan let out a breath. “Good. Be sure to check in.”

A flush of warmth surprised Duke; he was glad Nathan was worried, glad he wanted to keep in touch, glad that for once he didn’t sound angry when he talked to Duke.

Guilt followed fast on the heels of that pleasure when he glanced back at Lexie. She was half-smiling at him, her eyes soft.

Lexie had Audrey’s memories, and Duke was lying to Nathan about it.

 _No,_ He corrected himself quickly, _Not lying. Just not mentioning._ They had done that for ages, carefully not telling each other things, especially Duke, who usually had to keep his business dealings to himself to avoid putting Nathan into an awkward position as a cop.

Did he know that not telling Nathan about a quasi-legal delivery and not telling him that there might be hope for Audrey to return were different? Yes. Was he willing to admit that to himself? No.

Some thoughts and feelings were best ignored.

“Do you need to eat?” He asked, though he had noticed that Lexie almost never ate breakfast. “Because I think we have work to do.”

She just sighed. “No.” After a small pause, that smile crept back onto her face. “Is this a brush off? Gonna pretend that didn’t just happen?” She jerked her thumb back towards the railing, which had somehow become the symbol of the kiss that shouldn’t have happened.

Duke closed his eyes. “No, I’m not.”

“Good.” Without hesitating, she stood on her toes—and still needed to grab the back of his neck and pull him down—to kiss him.

He kissed her back with only slightly less enthusiasm than earlier. _One step closer to dying._

She pressed her forehead against his, probably a very uncomfortable position given how much she was balancing on her toes just to reach. “Are you okay?”

He traced her jaw idly with his thumb. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Good, then we can pick this up later.” She winked at him—fucking winked!—and he thought he might fall apart on the spot.

A dozen responses darted through his head, but he didn’t manage to actually voice any of them before Lexie disappeared into the apartment, reemerging a few minutes later dressed, with her purse in hand.

“So, what’s the job?”

“We’re going to figure out who attacked you last night, he was the only person upset at the Gull so he must have spoken to our troubled guy.”

He watched closely, but still only barely noticed the way her shoulders tensed when he mentioned her attacker. “Okay.” She shouldered her bag and brushed past him to walk downstairs to the bar.

“Lexie, are you—”

“Fine, Duke.”

She might as well have said “I’m definitely not fine.” He sighed and let her assume he’d believed her, following her to the bar where she was already pulling up the slips from last night, scanning past the times and jumping to roughly when the angry man had been in.

“Woman, woman, woman, man who tipped well, man who tipped an average amount, hey, this guy wrote wrote his zero really aggressively. Think it’s him?”

“Ryan Chambers… I guess it could be? Sounds like an asshole name.”

“Absolutely.” She smiled, just enough to let him know that something was going on under the surface.

“I’ll call Nathan,” Duke said. “Can you put those somewhere safe in case we need to go back through them?”

Lexie nodded and Duke stood up, pulling out his phone.

“Wuornos.”

As if Duke wasn’t on his caller ID. “We think we found him; guy named Ryan Chambers. You know him?”

“Never heard of him. I’ll see what else I can dig up and go talk to him.”

Duke frowned, pushing down the stab of worry. “Come pick me up first; I’ll go with you.”

“Why?”

He glanced back at Lexie. She’d tied a scarf around her neck, but the edges of the bruise were still visible, near perfect handprints. “The guy is strong, angry, and might still be affected by this trouble, Nathan. You need backup.”

Nathan snorted humorlessly. “You took my most important job; doesn’t matter if I die anymore.”

Completely unwittingly, Duke found himself snarling, “It matters to me.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Nathan simply said, “I’ll be there in a few,” And hung up the phone.

* * *

_It matters to me!_

His words were so close to Nathan’s own _I can’t lose you too_ that he was momentarily stunned speechless. When he’d recovered enough to respond, he wasn’t even sure what he’d said, just that he’d agreed to let Duke come along.

He’d meant his words as a bitter joke, something—anything—to relieve some of the impossible pressure he felt knowing that Duke and Lexie were getting closer, knowing that Duke had spent the night at her place and even if nothing had happened—which Nathan doubted—Duke had still been the one there, protecting her, and that might matter more than any sex that may or may not have happened.

Thinking about Duke and Lexie having sex was a bad idea while he was driving, so he shoved those thoughts very far into the back of his mind, locking them in the little closet where he kept everything he didn’t want to think about or had to avoid thinking about in order to stay sane.

Duke was waiting for him outside the Gull when he pulled into the parking lot. Lexie stood next to him, tugging at a scarf around her neck. It was the first effort he’d seen her make towards actually dressing like she was in Maine in November and he had a feeling it had a lot more to do with the bruises he could still see over the edge of the scarf.

“Are you coming with?” He asked her, ignoring Duke for the moment.

“He could still be under the influence,” Lexie said, and Nathan had to brace himself against the familiar stab of grief. Sometimes she just _sounded_ so much like Audrey it nearly brought tears to his eyes. “I’m supposed to talk down the troubled, right? That’s my job here.”

Duke took hold of her arm, so casually. He never had to hesitate before touching her, never had to brace himself for the impact of the only feeling he could have. “Lexie, this guy hurt you. Trouble or not, it’s okay if you don’t want to see him again.”

“I can do this.” Her voice was sharp.

Nathan remembered when Audrey had been kidnapped, how afterwards she had driven herself into the ground trying to find out who’d done it, that the only way for her to feel safe had been to be sure that they were behind bars. “You have to do this.”

Duke whipped around, glaring at Nathan. “No, she doesn’t—”

“He’s right,” Lexie said quietly. “I don’t want him to do this to anyone else. I need to know that this is fixed.”

 _You’re not that different,_ He thought, but didn’t say. Moments like this were the worst, when she was like Audrey, but not. Close, but not close enough. But he didn’t have time for pining, not anymore. “I have Chambers’ address. Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait to see if there would be further discussion, and there must not have been, because they both followed him to the bronco, freezing weirdly as they both moved to sit in the back.

Typically, Audrey would have had the front seat; she was his partner and it was funny to watch Duke try to fold his legs comfortably in the back. Of course, there was no way Lexie would know this, and she probably assumed that since she was the shorter of the two, it made more sense for her to be back there.

After a momentary scuffle that Nathan only barely had the patience for, Duke got into the backseat and Lexie took the passenger seat. 

It was a quiet drive. Nathan got the sense that there was some unspoken tension between Duke and Lexie, but he might have been imagining it. He could take advantage of it, try to work himself between them and steal Lexie right out from underneath Duke so she would have to kill him.

If this was one of the bad romantic comedies Nathan definitely only watched when there was nothing else on, that was how it would go, a drawn out, overblown competition between Nathan and Duke. But Nathan had known since the sixth grade that he couldn’t compete with Duke. Audrey had been the first to ever choose him, and sure, part of her had been… _very fond_ of Duke, but she had been with him. Had loved _him_.

And even if it had only lasted a matter of days, even if he’d only really kissed her once, if that was all he got, he’d be grateful until he died.

“Ready?” He asked Lexie, parking in front of Chambers’ house.

She nodded, squaring her shoulders. He thought it was a little bit endearing, how she seemed to be trying to make herself look more official; something that would be hard to achieve in her tight suede skirt and heeled boots.

They walked into the house together, and Nathan wished it could be as familiar as it would have looked to someone who knew about what he, and Audrey and Duke did for the troubles. But Lexie didn’t smell like Audrey, so walking next to her, if he closed his eyes—a bad idea if he intended to stay upright; his proprioception mostly functioned as normal, but it didn’t stand up to tests—was like walking next to the stranger she was.

He knocked on the door. “Mr. Chambers? Haven PD, open up.”

The door opened slowly. Lexie murmured a quiet, “Jesus,” And Nathan was inclined to agree with her; Ryan Chambers looked like absolute shit.

“What do you—” He stopped, seeing Lexie, seeing the scarf around her neck and the bruises it didn’t quite hide. “You. You… oh my god.”

“Mr. Chambers, can we come in?” Nathan said, when Lexie didn’t do anything.

Chambers nodded wordlessly and stepped aside so the three of them could file into the house.

They all sat on a couch facing Chambers and waiting for someone to say something.

Lexie spoke first. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

“Some of it,” The man admitted. “I was at the Gull, I had um… bad service—”

Lexie raised an eyebrow, her lips narrowing into a thin line.

“Sorry, just… I got angry. Some guy told me to calm down, told me I needed to, I don’t know, learn to relax or something. I shook him off and left. Later, I was taking my trash out and I saw you. I remembered the service and… I just got so angry. It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before, it completely overwhelmed me.”

“The guy who told you to calm down, did he say anything else?” Nathan asked, realizing that this could be their guy.

Chambers shrugged. “I don’t know. He was just some random idiot, but he was trying to help and… god I’m so sorry—” Abruptly, the words were cut off with enormous, choking sobs.

Nathan, Duke, and Lexie exchanged uncomfortable glances.

Nathan had had to tell people their loved ones weren’t coming home. He’d seen people injured, scared, messed up in every possible way, and he was very used to crying people, but not like this. These were the massive, brokenhearted sobs of someone whose entire home had been destroyed. Even when the barn had disappeared, taking Duke and Audrey with it, even when meteors had continued raining down on Haven, Nathan hadn’t allowed himself this kind of crying.

He almost envied the man.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Chambers said, again and again, until his voice started getting weak.

“Yes, you did,” Lexie said, shocking the man enough that the crying stopped. “You were pissed off and you wanted to hurt me because of it. Now you’re sad. If you really want to make it right, pull yourself together and tell us about the guy at the gull.”

It was not Audrey’s gentle touch and verbal gymnastics, but it was bluntly effective, like using an axe to kill a bug. 

“He was just some dude sitting alone at a table. I think he had a book? I’m sorry I don’t remember.” The sobbing came back.

“What was he drinking?” Lexie’s eyes had sharpened, something going on in her mind that Nathan couldn’t track but found fascinating all the same.

The guy shrugged around his heaving sobs. “He had an empty glass, one of the short ones, I didn’t pay attention, oh god, I’ve ruined everything!”

But Lexie looked up and smiled. “Rye whiskey, neat.”

This earned confused glances from everyone else in the room, which, blissfully, stopped the sobbing.

Lexie shrugged. “I remember drinks, not names, but we’ll be able to find him now.”

After that, it was a rapid and determined escape from Chambers’ house and back into the Bronco. For a moment, Nathan allowed himself to feel happy, to enjoy the feeling of making progress, of getting close to solving a trouble. It struck him, suddenly, that if this plan worked out, he would lose Duke and these moments, which had at some point become his routine. The idea that soon he wouldn’t have troubles to solve, or Duke to solve them with, made him wish this one might last just a little longer. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter didn't get any comments, so I'd love to hear what y'all think about this one. The horniness in it is brought to you by Hozier. Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah if you celebrate, blessed Yule if that's your jam, or otherwise just have a lovely day!

His name was Dennis Kirke. It was such an ordinary name that Lexie was almost pissed off. She wanted him to be some bad guy named Magnus Evulsen, just for the drama of it, but she had found that the troubles didn’t work like that. Often, the worst troubles came from the most ordinary people.

Dennis Kirke fit that bill pretty well, he was short, smiling, and strangely peaceful. Lexie found it disturbing.

“Sir,” She said, borrowing the from the script she’d picked up from Nathan and Duke and whatever scraps of Audrey existed in her mind. “Have you heard of the troubles?”

He tilted his head like a confused Labrador. “Yes? I’m troubled.”

That surprised Lexie; she thought people never admitted it, even Nathan and Duke never really mentioned their troubles, even when—for Nathan at least—it would explain away some of his stranger habits.

“Do you know what your trouble is?” Nathan asked, taking over while Lexie recovered from her shock.

Dennis nodded. “I… well, it’s a bit strange really, but have you ever read Peter Pan?”

“What?”

Dennis sighed, “Sorry, it’s easier with that background, but… I can only feel one emotion at a time.”

“What?”

“Most people feel lots of things at once, but when I feel anything strongly—happiness, anger, fear, whatever—it fills me completely, only room for one. It’s not so bad, really, I’ve got it under control. Why, what is it about?”

“What do you mean, under control?” Lexie asked. That definitely sounded like the trouble they were looking for, but he hadn’t mentioned it spreading to others.

“I work with a therapist and have been practicing cognitive behavioral techniques my whole life. Even when I’m completely consumed by an emotion, it doesn’t need to dictate how I act.”

Again, Lexie was stunned speechless. Surely it couldn’t be that simple? Surely troubles couldn’t be controlled with therapy and practice?

That would be just as boring as Dennis Kirke’s name.

“Your trouble,” Nathan continued, “Is it contagious?”

“Contagious? What does that mean?” Dennis frowned. “What is this about?”

“People have been getting your trouble,” Duke interrupted, before Nathan could cut in with something placating and cop-y, for which Lexie was grateful. “But unlike you, they don’t know how to control their behavior.”

“Good god,” Dennis muttered, “But that’s impossible. My family’s trouble has always been like this; it’s never spread before.”

“Can you think of anything that might have… escalated your trouble?” Lexie asked, searching for anything. If big emotions started troubles, maybe big emotions could make them worse.

Dennis shrugged. “Not really. I… can’t think of anything.”

“Are you sure?” Duke pushed, probably sensing the same evasiveness that Lexie saw.

“Mr. Kirke, whatever it is, you won’t get in trouble for it. We just need to know what happened.” Nathan was using his cop voice, but Lexie still made a mental note to tell him that no one believed it when authority figures said that.

Dennis shifted, his eyes darting from corner to corner, not looking at any of them. “They told me not to tell anyone.”

“Who told you?”

“I don’t know,” He said, “I’ve never seen them before, and they’re the kind of people you remember. Creepy, kind of strange looking. They hit me, stole my wallet, then told me they’d kill me if I reported it to anyone.” Dennis studied his feet.

Lexie stepped forward, taking a seat next to him. “We won’t let that happen.”

He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands and breathing very deeply. From this new vantage point, Lexie could see something odd on his neck. She gestured to Duke to come look at it.

He glanced at Dennis’s neck, then frowned at her, mouthing, _What?_ as he squinted at it.

She gestured again, more emphatically this time. It was a damn black, glow-y handprint, how could he miss it?

Nathan stepped forward to look too, frowning in much the same way Duke had.

Giving up on them, she leaned a little closer to Dennis. “You said the hit you; can you tell me where?”

“My stomach,” Dennis said, still taking his carefully measured breaths. “And they did something to the back of my neck. It stung and burned and just felt very strange, but there’s nothing there. I have some bruises on my ribs and stuff.”

“There’s nothing on your neck?” Lexie asked, looking again to make sure the handprint was still there.

Dennis nodded. “Looks normal, not even bruised.”

“Interesting,” Lexie muttered. A handprint only she could see. Of course this had to get weirder, but that didn’t erase their more pressing concern. “Your trouble, is there any way to stop it? Like we said, it’s affecting other people, and we need to do something.”

“It’s not that simple,” He said. “I’ve known about my family’s trouble for years, and I spent all that time studying CBT and learning to regulate my emotions so they don’t control me. It takes years and it’s hard.”

“Right, but… is there any quick way to help them? We can’t just let the affected people run around.”

“No! What part of ‘it takes years’ didn’t you get?”

Lexie stood up so she could glare down at Dennis. “Well, excuse me, but people are getting hurt, so while we’re waiting years for people to learn your CBD tricks—”

“CB _T_!”

“Whatever. While we’re waiting years for that, people could die. Can you help us or not?”

Dennis glared back, but kept his slow, even breathing. “Who was affected?”

Nathan handed him a list of names Lexie didn’t even know he’d been carrying, and Dennis scanned over them for a moment. “I only know a handful of these people.”

“This guy,” Lexie pointed to Chambers’ name, “Was at the Gull last night. He got—"

“You’re the waitress!” Dennis said, “Right, of course, that’s how I remember you. Is he the guy that got pissed off at you?”

Lexie nodded. “And then later he got so angry he nearly killed me.”

Dennis gasped. “I… holy shit. Um.” More breathing. “Well, emotions don’t last forever; mine always fade after I give myself time to process through them. And now that I think of it, the ones I know and this guy are all people I touched.”

“What?”

“That guy, I grabbed him, tried to tell him to calm down, but I hated the way he treated you, thought it was super rude, I was upset.”

“So… people you touch when you’re upset get your trouble?” Lexie exhaled. An answer at last. “And you think it will just… fade?”

“Hopefully but let me know if it doesn’t. I can talk to my therapist about starting a small group to support them.”

Feeling that this was as resolved as it could be from this standpoint, and eager to discuss the handprint with Duke and Nathan, Lexie stood. “Well, thank you for your help. We’ll, uh, be in touch.”

The three of them filed out, and once they were in the yard, Nathan quirked an eyebrow at her. “We’ll be in touch?”

“What?”

He looked away, a very small smile on his face. “Nothing. You just sounded like a cop.”

“I watch a lot of CSI: Miami; it’s pretty much my favorite show.”

Both Nathan and Duke gave her disgusted looks. Duke shook his head. “That’s bad even by insomnia TV standards.”

“Real cops don’t use magic to solve crimes,” Nathan grumbled.

Lexie had some comments about how often Nathan was solving magical crimes, but she kept them to herself. She didn’t think she and Nathan were exactly at the good-natured teasing stage of whatever their relationship was, and it was nice, for once, to have him talking to her like she was a real person.

Once they were in the car, Duke brought the conversation back down. “Okay, so what was up with you in there?” He asked. “You kept pointing at his neck?”

“Not his neck,” Lexie corrected, “The giant glowing handprint that was _on_ his neck.”

Nathan and Duke made comically identical faces of surprised confusion.

“The what?” Duke asked.

“He had a handprint that was all black and glowing, I don’t know, painted on his skin. It looked really freaky.”

“That’s right where he said those guys did something to him,” Nathan pointed out. “Why were you the only one who could see it?”

“She’s immune to the troubles, maybe…”

“What, it’s some kind of new trouble?”

“A trouble that changes people’s troubles?” Lexie suggested. “Have you seen anything like that?”

Duke frowned, “I don’t think—”

“We’ve seen a trouble that could absorb other people’s troubles,” Nathan told her. “So troubles that impact troubles aren’t unheard of but…”

“But troubles don’t change,” Duke finished for him. “All of them have existed in Haven, just as they are, for generations.”

“That’s cute and all,” Lexie said, “I love that you finish each other’s sentences, but look around. Guy says his trouble works one way, gets a handprint, his trouble works a new way. That’s weird, right?”

“It’s just one case,” Nathan pointed out. “Could be a fluke.”

“Let’s all hope so,” Lexie muttered, thinking about the troubles she’d already seen. They were barely treading water as it was; how would they manage if things got worse?

They rode in silence so heavy that they all jumped when Nathan’s radio jumped to life. “Nathan, hon, you there?”

Lexie tried not to snort at the idea of anyone calling Nathan—serious, glowery Nathan—Hon.

“Go ahead, Laverne.”

“Don’t know what you did, but it seems like things are starting to calm down. Got a call from the Freddy, said they’ve gotten fewer calls in the past couple hours.”

“Sounds good, let them know that it should be calm by tomorrow and to let us know if it’s not, and keep me posted about anger-related crimes.”

“You got it, hon.”

“Another job well done,” Duke said, leaning back and stretching out as much as he could in the cramped backseat. “Anyone want to celebrate?”

“I’m in,” Lexie said immediately. “I could use a drink.”

Nathan pulled into the parking lot at the Gull. “You two go. Have fun.” He stared at Lexie, and she felt his eyes burning into her almost painfully.

She jumped out of the car, nearly running to get away from it. Duke caught up with her easily as they walked inside, barely needing to speed up his usual walk.

“Anytime he wants to stop looking at me like I shot his girlfriend, that would be great,” Lexie growled.

“He doesn’t mean to,” Duke said.

Lexie snorted. “Weird how you talk about hating each other, but you always jump right to his defense.”

“Lexie, losing Audrey was—”

“Hard, yeah, I get it. But you know what else is hard? Finding out that nothing I remember is real and I’m actually some interdimensional wonder woman, and the version of me that everyone wants is dead! Except, except that she’s not, is she? She still lives in my head!”

Duke flinched, and that was satisfying. He leaned a little closer. “Keep your voice down; no one can know that you still have some of Audrey’s memories floating around.”

“Great,” Lexie muttered. “That’s just great. I love that that’s your first concern. Tell me, Duke, were you thinking of her when you kissed me?”

He took a step back, so stunned that he forgot to guard his face and she really saw him, saw what he was feeling. Hurt, surprise, grief, and something else, something desperate that Lexie didn’t have a name for.

“Whatever,” She said, abandoning whatever celebration they might have had to go hide in her apartment.

* * *

Duke watched Lexie go up the stairs, too stunned to speak, too stunned to defend himself, to tell her that she was the only thing he’d been thinking of that whole time. That he’d been so focused on her that the rest of the world had burned away.

He hadn’t been thinking about Audrey, and she needed to know that.

Ignoring the fact that she should probably have time to cool off, he followed her up the stairs, taking them three at a time to get to her that much faster.

He caught her before she made it through the door. Grabbing her arm so she had to turn and look at him.

She glared, fire and fury on her face as she took a breath to give him a verbal takedown of epic proportions, and he was utterly transfixed by her. She was perfect, unguarded and furious and beautiful.

Forgetting the many important things he’d wanted to say to her, he pulled her closer and kissed her.

She pulled back, less charmed than he’d hoped she’d be, and opened her mouth again.

“Lexie,” He whispered, “Lex…”

That seemed to stop her, or at least give her pause, so he kept going. “Lex, I’m not here for her. I’m here for you. I want you.”

Their lips were only inches apart, the cold air around them forgotten, the setting sun illuminating his back and casting dramatic contrast with shadows on her face. “I want _you,_ Lexie.” He kissed her again, softer this time, thorough.

She pulled back. “I think I’m still angry.”

He nodded. “I know. You’ve been through hell and half of it is shit we put you through. I’m sorry, Lex, really. This has all been a mess, but that’s no excuse for how we’ve treated you. We should have done so much more to make _you_ feel welcome.” He leaned in close again. “You’re not a replacement, Lexie. You’re perfect.”

“Wow.” She blushed, and Duke had to fight hard with the arousal that brought up; it wasn’t the time. “I’ve wanted to hear that for a long time.”

“Still mad?” He asked, smiling a little and leaning down to rest his forehead on hers.

She paused, frowning as though she were searching for emotions. “Yes, but now I’m also horny.”

He smiled, feeling almost ridiculously happy. “That I can work with.”

“You’d better.” She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss that blew the others out of the water. It was utterly unhesitating, as bold as Lexie herself was, and almost brutal.

 _Holy fuck, she’s going to kill me,_ he thought, before realizing how literal that would be. It was like someone had poured ice water down his shirt.

She must have felt that shift. “Are you okay? Sorry, was that—”

He shoved the thoughts aside, forcing them to the back of his mind where he could ignore them. “No. Don’t stop.” Whatever the cost would be, he was going to have this.

Pulling her back against him, he crushed his lips to hers, groaning when she opened her mouth to him. Unwilling to pull away, he fumbled at the door without breaking the kiss, nearly pushing her to the ground when it popped open unexpectedly.

They staggered inside together, pausing to make out like teenagers against every available surface, alternating between him pressing her against things, and her pressing him.

“I love that you’re smiling,” He said against her lips when they’d fallen onto the couch with her straddling him.

She laughed. “What? Why wouldn’t I be smiling? Or would you rather I was taking this very seriously?” She forced a comical stern face, her brows pulled together and her lips pinched.

It only lasted moments before she burst into laughter split by kisses. There was something unspeakably sexy and carefree about it. It had been a long time since he’d felt carefree about anything, and he bathed in her laughter and smiles, letting them infect him.

He explored her over her clothes, wanting to take this slow, not sure if it was to give her a chance to back away or because he wasn’t sure he’d get a second shot at this, which might already count as a second chance, if the failed Colorado kiss mattered.

She was a little more insistent, one hand fisted in his shirt, dragging him closer and holding him there and demanding that he focus all his attention on who she was now. He was more than happy to oblige.

Lexie ran her hands down his arms, feeling his sweater. “This is soft.” She smiled sweetly, her eyes glittering. “Take it off.”

He moved comically fast to follow the order, unsure of when the last time he’d been this stupidly eager for sex.

 _You’re a miracle, Lexie Dewitt,_ He thought, pulling her back down for a long, intense kiss. It wasn’t playful like the others. With that kiss, he said the many things he wanted to say to her in words, and hoped that someday he could.

Rolling her hips against his, she returned the kiss, matching his intensity. He missed the playfulness but couldn’t deny the relief he felt; he didn’t want this to be cheap or simple for her. It meant the world to him.

And god, her hips grinding against him felt good, even through too many layers of clothing. Whatever the hell was happening, he wanted more of it.

After a minute like that—too long and not long enough—Lexie tugged at his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside clumsily. She took a moment to stare at him, her eyes glittering and approving as she slowly and very deliberately leaned down to kiss his collarbone, then following it down, only to pause at the dip in his throat. He felt her tongue flick out and he had to bite back a groan that would have been embarrassing.

Lexie smiled and rolled her hips again, continuing back up his collarbone on the other side, this time nipping gently.

He wanted to go slow, wanted to appreciate every precious second of this, but he wouldn’t be able to hold off if she kept that shit up. Duke started to play with the hem of her shirt, not quite touching her skin except for little, accidental brushes. He felt her muscles tense each time she did it, despite her lack of overt response. He was getting to her, even if she didn’t want to show it. Knowing one of them would have to break first, he kept it up, not moving the shirt, not fully sliding his hands underneath it, just absently toying with it.

After a minute, she was panting, and she leaned back to give him a defiant glare, pulling her shirt off and tossing it aside.

He was floored, staring stupidly like this was the first time he’d seen a girl shirtless, but coherence returned after a moment and he flattened a hand against her back, pulling her closer so he could press his lips against her chest, teasing with his teeth down to the edge of her bra.

His initial desire to wait, to go slow, was waning. He _wanted._ Flicking her bra off easily, he pulled one nipple between his lips, scraping his teeth against it gently, and then not so gently when she moaned and gripped his hair, holding him where he was.

When he’d dedicated enough—or really, a fraction of enough—time to her perfect breasts, he looked up at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, bright eyes and wild hair. “Beautiful,” he whispered before pulling her down to kiss her.

Carefully, he got his arms around her, still exploring her mouth, and stood.

“Duke—”

“Lex, if we’re doing this, we’re not doing it on your fucking couch.”

She whimpered and went back to kissing him, an endeavor distracting enough to be hazardous for a couple steps until he had laid her carefully on the bed. He pulled the rest of his clothes off, which she watched with the same, bright smile, studying him like a particularly exciting puzzle.

Duke climbed into the bed next to her, taking a moment to kiss her and slide his hand down her smooth skin, tracing her curves and wondering if it was possible to memorize a feeling so that he could always know what she felt like.

Lexie sighed; a sound just shy of a whine. “Duke…”

He leaned close to her, a breath away from kissing her. “What do you want?”

She arched into him, pulling his lower lip between her teeth and releasing it slowly. “You.”

Duke groaned low in his throat. “Fuck, Lex.”

The smile was back. “Please do.”

Forget ending the troubles, he was going to die right here. Moving a little too quickly, but trying hard not to fumble around, he undid her heavy belt and tugged her pants down, taking a moment to press a kiss to the skin just above her underwear before he removed those too.

Then he leaned even further down, running his tongue through her slit and letting out a low moan at the taste of her. This was perfection. As nice as it would have been to stay there for a long time, exploring, tasting, and savoring, he could sense her impatience, and focused his attention on her clit.

He started swirling his tongue around it, escalating carefully to sweeping directly across it at various rhythms, learning what she liked, listening to her breaths and sighs and moans. Her hands were flexing and fisting in the sheets, even when she was being frustratingly quiet, letting him know that he was doing something right even when she wasn’t directly telling him.

“Duke,” She hissed, breathless.

He looked up, searching her face for any sign of pain. She only whined, jerking her hips. Unable to quite find the words, she reached down and moved his hand from where it circled her thigh, pulling it to exactly where she wanted it.

“More,” She whispered, voice low and rough with the strain of a close but not close enough orgasm.

He obliged her happily, sliding two fingers into her slick folds and continuing his ministrations to her clit, roughing his tongue over it faster as she jerked beneath him. Her breath was quick and caught, just shy of the moans and whines he really wanted to hear.

It wasn’t until he curled his fingers that he got the reaction he’d been working for, a low groan as her hips bucked to take his fingers deeply.

“Like that,” She groaned. “But _more_.”

He hoped the way she said that word could be burned in his mind forever, her voice hoarse and sweet with wanting and her eyes glazed over with pleasure. He gave her exactly what she wanted, working her carefully until the last shreds of that control she’d clung so tightly to fell away, leaving her panting and moaning openly.

“Duke.” His name fell off her lips with one last, desperate gasp and he could feel her muscles twitch around him. She gripped his hand, holding it where it was as she fucked herself through her orgasm.

It was very definitely the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and he found himself matching her desperation, if not her release, rolling his hips against the sheets for just a little friction.

With two fingers under his chin, she dragged him up, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, all tongue and taste.

When she had let him go, she arched one eyebrow. “What now?”

Involuntarily, he groaned, jerking his hips closer to her. “Lex, please.”

She smiled and reached between them, stroking him a few times, enough that he made a sound that would have been very undignified in any other circumstance. He might have even begged; his mind was rapidly abandoning him.

“Fuck, Lexie, please—”

He couldn’t even finish his pleas as she brought him to her entrance, and he was finally inside her.

At first it was sweet relief. “Perfect,” He whispered against her neck, before looking her in the eye and leaning in for a kiss. It didn’t last. He needed more, needed to move and feel her moving around him.

He slid an arm under her back, arching her up to get a better angle. One hand splayed behind her back, savoring the feel of her impossibly soft skin and the other held him up as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, setting a pace that was perfectly controlled to make this last. He wanted it to go on forever but knew he would have to settle for just a few minutes.

 _We’ll do this again,_ He thought, and his mind spun many images of various ways that they could do this which did nothing for his self-control.

The pace was aching and beautiful, and he managed to impress himself with how long he maintained it, but she was impossible to resist.

“Duke, please,” Lexie whined. “Faster.” Her hands wound into his hair and tugged and the sting of it made his hips buck.

“Fuck,” She ground out, matching him with a sharp thrust of her own. “Exactly like that.”

He had wanted so badly for this to be slow, tender, but Christ he couldn’t resist giving her exactly what she wanted—no matter whose name and memories she had, he’d never been able to say no to her—and he increased his pace, giving her faster and harder and knowing it wouldn’t last.

It didn’t, but it was amazing while it was happening and he swore he’d never fallen apart like this, never felt like his soul had left his body, never felt dizzy and lost and perfectly at home all at once like this.

When they had settled into her bed, he pulled her into a kiss, trying to say all those things that would be a terrible idea to actually speak aloud.

He woke hours later to sunlight on his face and Lexie’s warmth still sprawled next to him. He rolled over to face her, not yet ready to face leaving this bed and starting the day.

Lexie’s eyes fluttered open and she frowned, tilting her head. “Duke?”

His mouth opened, but his voice was stuck. He knew that tone, knew the way those eyebrows knit together, the slight part in her lips, like she was about to ask a question. Those weren’t Lexie-isms.

“Audrey?”

“Duke, I—” She let out a small sigh, cutting herself off as her eyes fluttered closed and she went back to sleep.

Duke wanted to slap himself, wanted to submerge his head in cold water just to be sure that hadn’t been a strange and frightening dream. But he knew it wasn’t even without those things. That was Audrey, momentarily awake and alive.

For the millionth time in the past few months, Duke’s world was thrown off its axis. Whatever new normal he might have found with Lexie evaporated in an instant.

Audrey…

He jumped out of bed, grabbing his clothes and throwing them on carelessly. He had to—

“Duke?” That was Lexie, he could tell without even looking that it was her. “What are—”

His eyes met hers, and he realized what it looked like he was doing. “Lex, I have to go, there’s a… work thing that I have to deal with. I wish—” He crossed the room and kissed her. “God, I wish I could stay, but I have to run.”

Her guard was up, all the soft carelessness from last night was gone behind walls of flinty neutrality. “Okay.”

“Lex— “

“See you at work.” She rolled over, turning her back to him.

This was a mistake, it was a horrible idea, but he couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t look at her while he was replaying the three seconds he’d spent looking at Audrey. He had to get out of here. He had to do something.

He had to figure out what he was going to do.

* * *

Nathan got to the office early after a sleepless night spent thinking about anything other than Duke and Lexie. He sat at his desk and kept right on not thinking about them, and about Duke’s inevitable death, and about Audrey, who never managed to get too far from his thoughts.

He stared at the paperwork he could be doing—not nearly enough to actually occupy his spinning mind—and sighed.

The troubles were a nightmare, and now one that he was responsible for, but at least they kept his mind busy. With the emotion trouble more or less subsided and Dennis Kirke under orders not to touch anyone when he was upset ever again, Nathan felt useless. What he wouldn’t give for something to—

Duke burst through his office door, nearly falling over. “Thank god you’re here.”

Nathan was already standing. “Is Lexie okay?”

“You should sit down.” Duke was breathing hard, looking frantic and disheveled, his clothes—the same ones from yesterday, Nathan noticed—were rumpled and his shirt buttoned incorrectly.

“What’s wrong?” Nathan didn’t follow his orders and stayed standing.

“It’s… jesus I don’t even know how to say this.”

“Duke—”

“I saw Audrey.”

Nathan sank slowly into his chair. He couldn’t breathe. It felt like being punched in the stomach, the emotional pain so great it was almost— _almost_ —physical. “What?”

“This morning, I…” Duke glanced around, looking like a toddler caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “God, I just have to say it. When I woke up with Lexie, she turned around, and she… it wasn’t Lexie.”

“What?”

Duke dragged his hand through his hair, standing to pace the tiny office. “It was Audrey. I just… I know it was her, just for a second, and then she was asleep again and she woke up as Lexie.”

Agonizing hope started to wind its way through Nathan. _Audrey… could it really be?_

_Audrey…_

“Are you sure? Maybe Lexie was just… I don’t know, tired, not acting like herself.”

Duke glared. “You think I couldn’t tell the difference?”

“You don’t seem to mind the difference,” Nathan grumbled.

The glare got worse. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Look, Nathan, I saw her. It was Audrey; I’m sure of it. I know Lexie can kind of… sense her. She has some of her memories and—”

“What?” Nathan stood up, painful emotions forged together into sharp anger, easy to wield. “She has Audrey’s memories? Since when? How did you know?”   
“She told me,” Duke answered. “Look, I wanted to—”

“How long have you known?”   
Duke closed his eyes, at least having the decency to look remorseful, though Nathan was fully aware that just because he looked it, didn’t mean he felt it. “She told me at your house. Said that it was how she got there, how she knew where it was.”

It hadn’t even crossed Nathan’s mind to wonder how Lexie knew where he lived. That night was such a blur, and Nathan had barely slept since. Truthfully, he hadn’t been getting much sleep since… hell, he didn’t think he’d slept well since Audrey had been kidnapped and they’d found out about the hunter meteor storm.

But it also occurred to him that Duke had been riding around with him and Lexie, knowing that she had some of Audrey’s memories, and he hadn’t bothered to mention it.

“You knew all day and you didn’t say anything?”

“Nate…”

“Were you going to tell me?”

Duke closed his eyes. It was obviously a ‘No’, but he couldn’t even be bothered to say it.

“Duke.” The anger was so familiar, but he hadn’t missed its absence since Duke’s miraculous return.

“She doesn’t want to have to be Audrey! How would you have reacted if you’d known she still had some of those memories? What would you have done?” Duke snapped.

They were all the way back into old habits, Nathan could sense it. This argument was moments away from coming to blows and goddamn he hoped it did. He deserved to know about any shred of Audrey that remained, no matter how small. 

Underneath all that, he realized that Duke kind of had a little bit of a point, though he would die before he admitted it. What would he have done if he’d known Lexie had Audrey’s memories?

Images of himself getting close to Lexie, pretending to love her, just for those hints of Audrey flashed in his mind and he recoiled slightly.

“Does that matter?”

“YES! She has a right to be her own person, Nate! Just like Audrey deserved not to be treated like Lucy or Sarah.”

Nathan wasn’t sure if he was imagining the extra venom on Sarah’s name, but it stung all the same. “This is different.”

“How, Nate? How is it different than Audrey remembering being Lucy?”

“I didn’t love Lucy,” Nathan answered quietly. “And Lucy never… Lucy couldn’t take over, lead Audrey places.”

Duke paused. “Actually…”

“What?” He was sure he would have remembered Audrey mentioning that.

“It was in the haunted house. She… she wasn’t quite Audrey anymore, and Lucy I guess led her to the secret room, where she had a vision about—”

Nathan had to brace himself to hear James’s name. His son. The one he’d killed.

“This isn’t unheard of. It doesn’t mean that…”

“That Audrey is coming back.”

Duke stepped forward and put a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. He knew it was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but with the absence of feeling, it was more of a mockery. Just one more thing Nathan couldn’t have.

“But if you saw her this morning—”

“That’s different,” Duke said. “What happened in the Halloway house, that was like she went into a trance, like someone else was driving her. What happened this morning? That was… that was Audrey resurfacing in Lexie’s body, and that is new.”

“Or maybe it isn’t,” Nathan suggested. “This could have happened before, to any of the other… the others, but how would we know about it?” This was a much easier conversation than any of the many other things he wanted to say.

“Maybe, but it’s not like we can ask about it. Whoever we ask will suspect that—”   
“That Audrey might be back.” They would lose the slight time advantage they’d gotten by needing to get Lexie to fall in love with one of them.

“What was that about Audrey?”

Duke whipped around to face the door, his hands up, ready for a fight.

Dwight was watching them, his face perfectly neutral. Slowly, he repeated, “What was that about Audrey?”

“Nothing,” Nathan said, far too fast. “Just… sometimes we like to get together and, um, talk about her.”

“Talk about her?”

“Yeah. Because we’re sad.”

Duke and Dwight stared at him. It was, very possibly, the dumbest thing he’d ever said, and easily the worst lie he’d ever told. Anyone who knew him at all would know that he would never just—

Abruptly, Dwight’s eyes softened. “Oh. Well, good. I’m glad you’re, uh, processing. That’s… healthy.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and Nathan thought it was the first time he’d ever seen the man fidget. “Duke, how are things going with Lexie?”

“I’ll be dead by next month.” He said it dryly, a quip more than a plan, but it still hit Nathan like a punch in the gut.

He sat down slowly, fighting to catch his breath. He’d been sitting here when Audrey had told him about the Hunter meteor storm.

_It’s in 47 days._

_I’ll be dead in a month._

“Nathan?” Dwight asked.

His vision was swimming slightly, and he started moving things around on his desk, aimlessly rearranging paperwork and trying to keep himself from crying.

“Okay, well, uh, don’t stay too long, Duke, he’s uh, technically at work. And I’ll, um, see you around.” Dwight made a hasty exit.

“Nate—”

He flinched at the sound of the nickname only Duke used. When he was gone, no one would call him that. The nickname would die with Duke. That, somehow, seemed fitting, that a part of him would go too.

“Sorry, something in my eye.”

“Nathan—”

“Don’t, Duke. It’s like you said, this isn’t about us.”

“I just… I came here because I had a thought.”

“First one in a while?”

Duke flipped him off, a gesture so casual Nathan wasn’t even sure Duke knew he’d done it. “What if Lexie can’t fall in love with me because Audrey is still in there and she’s in love with you?”

“Getting a little convoluted.”

“Yeah, but… look, I’m not a huge fan of getting killed. I’d really like to avoid it, honestly, but if I can’t do that, I’d at least like it to mean something. Nathan, if we get this wrong, I die for nothing and the troubles stay.”

_Just like Audrey._

“Don’t want that either,” Nathan said quietly. “I’d tell you to take things slow with Lexie but seems a little late for that.” He couldn’t resist just a little ribbing. Hell, it would have been funny, something they would have said to each other in high school, had it not been for the fact that Lexie had been Audrey just a few months ago.

Duke still had the decency to take it as a joke, and he snorted. “Just because we, uh yeah, she’s not in love with me. Probably even less because I ran out this morning.”

“Should probably fix that,” Nathan said mildly, forcing down his many feelings. “Gotta get this done.” He gestured towards the stack of files on his desk, most of which were products of the most recent trouble.

“Nathan—”

There were hundreds of unspoken words in the way Duke said his name, and once again Nathan had to force himself to look away. Those words had been unspoken for a long time and they should probably stay that way. It was too late. Maybe it had always been too late.

For a second, Duke’s face registered a hundred emotions Nathan couldn’t—or didn’t want to—interpret, but then it was gone, smoothed over into Duke’s usual expression.

Without another word, Duke turned and left.

Left alone, Nathan still didn’t get started on his paperwork. Instead, he stared at Audrey’s desk. What if there was a way for her to come back? What if they could somehow… but the only way for that would be if Duke died for his love of Lexie, leaving Nathan with Lexie or Audrey or whoever she was. There wasn’t a future where all three of them survived in a world without troubles. Nathan had wanted it to be him, Duke believed it had to be him, Lexie and Audrey probably wouldn’t want it to be either of them.

 _“We’ll find another way; we’ll figure this out,”_ Audrey would have said, her eyes determined and sincere.

Nathan didn’t really believe it was possible, but still. _What if…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling a bit discouraged on this tbh. I wish I was above begging for comments but I'm literally shameless. If you're enjoying this, please tell me.

Duke sincerely wished that the only florist in town wasn’t owned by a guard member. It was ten layers of awkward, walking into that place, seeing _that_ tattoo, realizing this guy knew way too much of his business.

“These for the new Audrey?”

“Lexie,” Duke corrected.

The guy shrugged. “Are they?”

Duke swallowed the urge to groan. “Yes.”

“Look, if this helps her fall in love with you so we can end this shit faster, you can have whatever you want, Crocker.”

Duke glared. “How generous.”

The guy shrugged. “Whatever. Good luck.”

He grabbed the bouquet and left, feeling stupid and angry and trapped. Was there any way to escape his inevitable death? Any way to die that wasn’t murder? He’d never thought he would die old and surrounded by fat grandchildren, but ‘murdered by the tattoo guy’—who might be Nathan, Duke hadn’t forgotten—or ‘Murdered by Lexie to end the troubles’ were far from ideal. Why couldn’t he have had something cool and just a little dramatic? Lost at sea, shipwrecked and forever haunting sailors, a tragic accident, or saving someone he loved from a falling chandelier, those were good ways to go out.

He drove back to the Gull distracted. It had been two days since he’d slept with Lexie, and while he had seen her at work and she hadn’t acted differently, she didn’t take his calls and he felt like she was avoiding him.

Which made sense, given how he’d left her that morning. He’d realized as he was doing it that it was a bad idea, but he’d been too freaked out by seeing Audrey. It had thrown everything he’d thought about Lexie’s memories into question, and frankly, had made him feel pretty disgusted with himself.

What if Audrey was still there, awake while Lexie was piloting their body? What if she had been at the back of Lexie’s mind screaming that she didn’t want to have sex with Duke, unheard or ignored? Lexie had wanted it, he knew that, but if Audrey was there…

And that begged the question, between the two of them, who was real? Did Lexie or Audrey have a greater claim to be walking around, using the body that they apparently shared?

After arriving at the Gull, he just sat in his car, staring vacantly at the chalkboard which needed to be updated and thinking existential thoughts about Lexie and Audrey. That only made him feel more like he was drowning, so he grabbed the flowers off the passenger seat and walked up to Lexie’s apartment, knocking carefully on the door.

She answered, her face fully made-up and perfectly blank. “Hey.”

“Hi, Lex.” He shoved the flowers towards her. “I brought you these.”

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I’ll put them in some water.”

To his surprise, rather than stepping back into the apartment, she brushed past him onto the deck and tossed the flowers over the railing and into the ocean.

Well. That didn’t bode well.

“Lexie, about the other day—”

“Obviously I’m not really a hearts and flowers kind of girl,” Lexie interrupted, crossing the balcony again to stand in front of him, “But what the hell was that? You had so much to say about wanting me, but the second you sleep with me, you bail?”

“It wasn’t like that—”

“Then what was it like, Duke?” Lexie sighed. “Look, I’ve done this shit before, okay? I’m a big girl. If you just wanted a quick fuck, you could have said so. I would have been down.”

He flinched a little. Was that actually what she thought of him? “Lex, no. I didn’t want that.” _I want you for the rest of my life, even if you’re the one to end it._

“Then what, Duke? What the hell? Was it… was it because of Audrey?”

He couldn’t just say yes, although it was. “No.” The lie stuck in his throat, barely getting out in time to be believable. “I… I freaked out, Lex. Truth is, I’m bad at this kind of thing. I’m not a flowers and hearts guy either. I… I ruin good things in my life, and I saw you that morning and I… I don’t want to ruin this too.”

“Duke,” Lexie laughed a little. “We slept together once, and yeah, it was great and all and I’d like to do it again, but we’re not getting married. It’s a little too soon to be freaking out about ruining a relationship that we’re not even in.”

“Right, I know. That’s… yeah that’s why I came back. I feel pretty stupid about it now.”

“You look pretty stupid too.”

He nodded, rubbing absently at his jaw. “Yeah, I deserve that.”

“So, uh, want to come in? Grab a drink?” She stepped aside and gestured into the apartment.

He smiled. “Yeah, I’d… yeah that would be good.” They were stepping back onto territory where he felt comfortable. Having drinks and flirting was easy; he could do that. Whatever it took to make someone fall in love with him, that was more difficult. Things with him and Lexie were charged—things had been with Audrey too—and his little admission about relationships, while not the reason he’d left, was true.

He didn’t want to ruin this thing with Lexie, and not just because doing so would screw up their only way to stop the troubles. It would be nice, before he died, to have had one relationship that worked out, if only to prove to himself that he could.

He walked back into the apartment, wishing he could more easily see it as Lexie’s. Hopefully she would be here long enough to make more changes, to make it her own. He couldn’t imagine that Audrey’s old lady and the sea decorating tastes would match Lexie’s, and he wanted to know what her taste would be.

“So, what do you like?” Lexie asked, gesturing towards the kitchen.

He shrugged. “Anything.”  
“Bullshit,” Lexie laughed. “I’ve seen you drink; you have standards.”

She was right. “I was trying to be low maintenance.”

“Sweet, but pointless. I know you’re a diva at heart.”

He had to smile and found himself enjoying the sensation. It was easy to laugh when Lexie was around, easy to forget what was really going on. Normally, he would have wanted to make a joke in return, but he’d been too busy watching her laugh at him to come up with something clever, so he just stood there and smiled at her like an idiot.

After another moment, she rolled her eyes, clearly still laughing at him. “Wow, you really are bad at this. I guess you’re having what I’m having.”

She grabbed a bottle of something out of a cabinet and poured it into a glass, not bothering with ice or mixers. He took it and drank without even bothering to figure out what it was. As it turned out, it was something that was trying to be whiskey, but not really managing it all that well.

Again, Lexie laughed at him. “You hate it.”

“I didn’t mean to make that face,” He admitted. “It’s not _that_ bad; I’ve had worse.” Just not in a long time, not since he’d gotten some money and some taste.

“Okay,” She said, “I have a question for you.”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to want to answer it?”

Lexie ignored him. “You’re a smuggler.”

“Not a question.”

She gave him a flat glare and he shut up. “But what the hell does that even mean? What do you even smuggle?”

He shrugged, not exactly meaning to be evasive but doing it out of habit and he wasn’t sure where her moral line was, and he didn’t want her to think he’d crossed it. “Sometimes things need to not go through customs.”

“Right. Like what?”

Another shrug. “I don’t usually ask.”

Her eyebrow arched up. “What does Nathan think about that.”

“Not a fan.” Now he was being intentionally evasive. He didn’t want to talk about Nathan, not right now. Not with her.

“Wow, that bad? So why do you two spend so much time together?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” There was a new set to her shoulders, a stubbornness in her jaw that he recognized. This conversation wasn’t going to end until she’d had her answers.

“Nathan and I… we’re both trying to end the troubles.”

Lexie nodded. “Yeah, I get that, or at least I get why Nathan is involved. He’s a cop, troubles commit crimes sometimes, and he has one, but you said you want to avoid your trouble, which I also don’t get.”

He attempted a laugh. “This isn’t a casual conversation.” He hadn’t avoided telling her the truth about his trouble, but he also hadn’t elaborated after she’d seen it the first time. He wondered if maybe Nathan had filled her in, but she still seemed to be in the dark. She thought it was just the eyes and the strength.

“Duke.”

“I have to avoid mine,” He said. “Because it’s not just the eye thing. It’s also… I can take troubles away from people.”

Lexie’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit. Then why—”

“But it kills them.”

She jerked back. “Shit, you could have led with that.”

He shrugged, trying very hard to make it look like he didn’t care. “The only way to end a trouble is to kill someone who has it.”

She chewed her lip. “That’s the only way?”

He nodded. “That we know of.” That was a lie, because they knew of one other way, but if Lexie didn’t know that then—

“So why did they want me to kill Nathan?”

That was not what he’d been expecting her to say. “What?”

“They wanted me to kill Nathan because they thought I was Audrey, and killing someone I love will end the troubles, right? So, your way isn’t the only way.”

“It’s…”

“Duke.” There was something fishing, searching in her eyes, and he wondered how pointed this conversation had been from the start. Had she planned this?

“That’s the only other way we know of,” He admitted.

Lexie deflated, leaning on the kitchen counter like it was the only thing keeping her up. “What does that mean for us?”

“Us?” He asked stupidly.

“They wanted me to kill him to end the troubles, but I don’t love him, Audrey did. He attempted to flirt with me twice, then randomly gave up, right at the same time you started making moves. Funny timing, don’t you think?” There was nothing teasing in her tone, nothing to smooth the razor edge on her words.

“Lexie…”

“Don’t.” Her eyes were cold, a steely glare that he’d seen but never been the victim of. “You were using me. I didn’t think about it until you left that morning, how weird it was that you showed no interest until Nathan stopped, but then I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

She rolled her eyes, a harsh smile cut across her face. “Did you think you’d just… I don’t know, sweep me off my feet? Convince me to kill you for the good of the many? Die and make me live with that for the rest of my life?”

“No, it wasn’t—”

“Don’t tell me what it was or wasn’t! You didn’t start this because you wanted to be with me, you started it because you wanted to end the troubles. And you didn’t tell me, so answer me this, Duke. Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed heavily. “Because I knew—”

She cut him off. “Because you knew I wouldn’t go for it. Exactly. You knew I wouldn’t do that, so you just ignored what I wanted and went right ahead with your fucking stupid plan. And for that, Duke? Please accept an enthusiastic fuck you and get out of my house.”

“Lexie…”

“Get. Out.”

Duke left. He had no choice.

More than that, he made a full retreat, getting into his car and heading for the Rouge and his personal supply of alcohol.

After settling at the table and taking a couple long sips, he realized that he should have seen this coming. He fucked up all his relationships, ruined all the good things in his life. Audrey, Evi, Nathan, he just couldn’t keep his shit together enough to _keep_ the people that he loved. And now Lexie, which was more than just another failed relationship, another unrealized love, that was the end of hope for all of Haven.

Lexie hated him, and they would never be able to end the troubles.

He contemplated calling Nathan, but what would he say? “Hey, buddy, I ruined everything because I thought maybe Audrey was still around, which we now have no way of knowing because Lexie won’t speak to me.”

That would make his day, Duke was sure.

He dropped his head to hit the table, relishing the dull pain of it. “I am an idiot,” He said aloud to the empty ship, who creaked sympathetically in response.

He took another long drink from the bottle, wishing he felt it more than he did. The worst thing about drinking too much was that it stopped working after a while.

* * *

Nathan didn’t want to wish for a trouble, certainly he didn’t want to wish for a deadly one, because those deaths were on his head (seventeen since he’d shot Howard), but he needed something to do. He had been miserable for months but six of those months, he’d been on the run, and finding places to sleep and money for food had kept him busy, had given him something to do that kept him sane, even if he’d seen survival as more of a punishment than a necessity at the time.

This, however, this was hell, this was the punishment he really deserved, not just living with the awful things he’d done, but living with them and having nothing to do other than think about them.

He hadn’t spoken to Duke since the conversation in his office and he had tried very hard not to think about it since then. That hadn’t helped all that much, and with no work to distract himself, he really did think he would lose his mind.

“Nathan?” Stan poked his head in the door, his eyes flicking to the empty desk as if he, too, still expected to find Audrey there. “We’ve got… I don’t even know what, but you should see it.”

Nathan sighed. _Speak of a trouble and one shall appear._

“Thanks, Stan.”

“Hey, uh, is Lexie coming back?” Stan asked. Nathan never knew how much the guy knew about what really went on, he got the feeling that Stan very intentionally kept himself from being too much involved with the trouble-fighting, and almost admired him for it. “It’s not the same, but… I don’t know, it was nice having her around.”

“I don’t know,” Nathan said, hating how defeated he sounded. “What should I go look at?”

“It’s, um, it’s Jordan.”

Nathan stood. He’d barely seen hide or hair of Jordan since he’d struck the deal with the guard, but he should have known none of this would sit right with her, and now that Duke had taken over what was supposed to be his job, she was justified.

That did not entirely excuse her from walking down Main street and grabbing everyone she got close to.

Cops were hovering uncertainly around, several had guns drawn, hesitantly aiming at her. Nathan walked past them all except Stan. “Call Dwight. I’m going to talk to her. No one fires without orders.”

He was confident that Dwight wouldn’t order anyone to fire on Jordan, even if he wasn’t confident that no one would try to shoot through him to get to her. He stepped through the line of cops and walked smoothly past terrified bystanders.

“Jordan!”

She turned, and he felt a low pull in his heart, almost like pain when he saw her face. She was terrified and desperate, probably hurting just as much as the people she had shocked.

That, more than any intentional effort on his part softened his voice. “Jordan, you have to stop this.”

“No,” Jordan snapped, vicious and tragic, “You have to stop this!”

Nathan closed his eyes and took a long breath. “We’re trying—”

“Try harder!” She lunged for another person, like a sick game of tag where she was it. The guy ducked out of the way, barely escaping.

“Jordan—”  
“Stop saying my fucking name, Nathan!”

“Yeah, sorry.” He took another breath. “We are trying, I promise we’re trying to do this in the way that’s going to be as fast as possible.”

“So that’s why you’re off the job?” She looked at him, her pain masked better now, covered with anger and bitter, bitter mockery. “You just couldn’t make her like you, could you?”

Nathan tried not to flinch, tried not let the comment resonate with any of his many insecurities. “No.”

“So, what? We all just have to live like this?”

Nathan shook his head. “No. We have another plan. Someone else will… we’re still ending this.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He couldn’t even say Duke’s name, not in connection to the person who would die to end the troubles. He still wanted it to be him.

“So you get to weasel free of any responsibility again, don’t you?” She smiled. “Of course. God forbid your actions have consequences.”

“Jor—” He thought better of saying her name. “I know what I did. I had no idea what would happen when I destroyed the barn, but I can say that I didn’t think it would be this. I was desperate, and stupid, and I know that and seventeen people who had nothing to do with any of it are dead because of what I did. Don’t think I don’t care about that.”

She glared. “You don’t care about anything except for her.”

“And she’s gone,” Nathan said, so quietly that he wasn’t even sure Jordan could hear him. _Isn’t that punishment enough?_ He wanted to ask. _That after everything I did, everything we fought for, she’s still gone? And now I’ll lose Duke, too?_

“You want to see me punished, Jordan? Go ahead. Figure out what you can do that’s worse than having to live with killing Audrey, killing my son, watching my best friend die, and having to see the face of the woman I loved in the face of the person who killed him.”

He held out empty hands, putting them up, part of him hoping she would just kill him. He was tired. Audrey was gone. Duke was a dead man walking.

But Jordan didn’t wrap her hands around his throat, didn’t pull out a knife and stab him. Instead, she smiled. “Killing you would be giving you the easy way out.”

And then she walked away.

By the time Dwight arrived, people were recovering. Paramedics had swept in as soon as Jordan was gone and it was safe to, but no one had suffered permanent damage, just cuts and bruises associated with falling down.

“She must have had some kind of taser hidden in her palm,” One man was telling a uniform, who appeared to only be pretending to take notes.

Dwight approached Nathan. “They’re saying you talked her down.”

He shrugged. “She stopped.”

“Nathan—”

“Don’t.”

“I’m your boss; I’m going to.” Dwight took a deep breath, as if this heart to heart was going to physically hurt him. “You’re falling apart. I don’t know what you need, but you need to figure it out. Get a dog, get a therapist, meditate, I don’t know, but deal with yourself, because there are still people who need you.”

He held up a hand when Nathan tried to interrupt him. “Not just Duke and Lexie. The people in this town. They know you; they trust you, yes, even now. People still look to you when things are going wrong. Don’t take that from them. Don’t be whoever it is that the rest of the guard and the Rev’s guys and every other asshole in this town thinks you are.”

“But I am that guy,” He said. “Jordan was right. I’m the guy that couldn’t let go. The idiot who ruined the only way to stop the troubles.” Ignoring Audrey’s wishes and killing James in the process.

“But what else are you?” Dwight asked. “Because if I was just the guy whose trouble got his daughter killed, I’d be dead by now.”

Nathan just shrugged. Loving Audrey, protecting her, that had been more of an identity for him than any he’d had before she showed up. He was a half-decent cop, Garland Wuornos’s fuckup son, the guy who can’t feel, talked about in whispers by condescendingly sympathetic old women.

“Figure it out,” Dwight said. “And let me know when you do.”

He stared at the other man for a long time, until he finally said, “I miss Claire.”

Dwight smiled, small and sad. “Me too.”

* * *

Lexie was good at being angry. In school, it had been the only thing anyone had found commendable about her, that she could be truly, spectacularly angry if she wanted to. She had, after being stood up by her prom date because he thought he had a better chance of seeing Cassie Mallory’s tits, become legendary for taking a baseball bat to the guy’s car, not that anyone could prove it.

In the intervening years, she had gotten a bit better at controlling it, a bit better at rolling with the punches and letting shit happen but that didn’t mean it had all gone away. And now she really was pissed at Duke, at Nathan, at Audrey, at Haven, at all this fucking weirdness, because those things she remembered? All that anger? That wasn’t even hers.

Perhaps that was what made this so satisfying. This was the first time she, whether her name was Lexie or Audrey or whoever, it was the first time _she_ had been truly angry. She thought about running, but the memory of her ill-fated last run hung heavy in her mind.  
Her bruises were mostly healed, but her stomach still twitched at the idea of running the streets of Haven.

Audrey’s sturdy hiking boots sat, muddy and abandoned, unused since Lexie had taken over, next to the door and Lexie’s sneakers. She stared at them. What she was thinking was a worse idea than running. At least when running residential streets there were nosy old ladies to ask for directions. Trekking through the woods in November, on a day as cold as this one was a tempting-fate kind of stupid, but she wanted it. She wanted to feel cold and to need to focus on mere survival, because she couldn’t feel any more lost or confused or hurt if she really was stuck in the middle of nowhere in the woods.

The pull at the back of her mind, one that she was pretty sure was Audrey, seemed to want her to look away from the boots. This wasn’t something Audrey would do, and that made the idea seem even better than it had before.

This was her idea, her decision. _Sorry, Auds, you’re not in charge anymore._

The woods were lovely, dark and deep. And also, cold. Very, very cold. She liked that, liked that her lungs burned and that the thing she was following, which wasn’t quite a path, was rough enough to make her muscles ache. She pushed herself even harder than she did when she ran, without every going faster than a walk. She could tell she was going uphill, away from roads and deeper into the endless ocean of trees.

There had been something about missing kids when she was gone, before she showed up again, and Duke had said they were lucky they’d found them, because the woods around Haven were expansive. That was probably how they managed to keep all these secrets; with woods on one side and the ocean on the other, they were as trapped as the residents.

But Lexie didn’t feel trapped. Away from the Gull, from the town, from the people, she felt content. In the woods, no one looked at her and thought of Audrey. Out here, there was no one to think she wasn’t good enough, no one to lie to her or manipulate her or use her.

“I’m not killing anyone!” She shouted to the unfeeling woods. She shook her fist at the sky, at whatever horrible entity was toying with Haven like ants in a sandbox. “You can’t make me do it!”

Her voice didn’t echo. It was as though the trees and dead leaves swallowed her words, leaving her feeling more gloriously alone than ever.

It was only about two hours into her walk—not really even long enough to make her significantly tired—that it started to snow. The sensible part of her, which she wanted to attribute to Audrey, knew that she should turn back. It would take her just as long to get home as it took to get out here, and two hours in the snow could make a lot of difference. But the reckless side of her, the part that didn’t give a damn whether she made it back to Audrey’s apartment and Audrey’s clothes and Audrey’s Duke, told her to just keep going, and she liked that better. Maybe if she walked long enough, she would find herself back in her old life, in a shitty roadside bar with a deadbeat boyfriend waiting for her in a motel you could book by the hour. Anything would be better than this hellscape where the laws of nature were moot, and people could have other people’s memories written over who they were.

She listened to the reckless voice and shoved branches out of her way as she climbed further and further, trying very hard not to notice that the snow was really coming down and it was possible that she’d miscalculated slightly.

Maybe another hour had gone by when she finally admitted to herself that she had been stupid, and by that point it was getting dark and snow was falling thick and fast making the landscape unrecognizable even if she had been paying enough attention to find her way back.

“Well, fuck,” She muttered, because she had nothing better to do and those were as good of last words as any.

Duke had teased her about her taste in television, but he really had no idea. She was the queen of insomnia TV, which meant she’d watched her share of melodramatic survivalist shows that anyone could tell were staged. She hoped that, amid the ratings grabs and ridiculousness, there was some shred of facts in them, because that was the best she had.

 _Food, water, shelter,_ She thought. _But not in that order._ Water was first, probably, but she didn’t feel too concerned; water was falling from the sky. No, her priority was shelter and some way to signal for help.

 _Got any advice for me, Little miss sunshine?_ No answer from the Audrey in her head, who might or might not even be real.

 _But what is real in this godforsaken town,_ she thought, though even she couldn’t blame Haven for this. No, this was all her decision, and there had probably been one or two bad ones, looking back on it. Hindsight was a motherfucker.

It was, of course, also Duke’s fault. If he hadn’t… god, could she even call it using her? Sure it was noble and all, being willing to die to end the troubles, but for Christ’s sake. Dying would be the easy part; she would be the one who would have to deal with having killed someone. Someone she loved, even.

Not that she loved Duke. She didn’t know how things worked in Haven, but Lexie didn’t think love was something that happened after no dates and one decent night’s sex. He was a good guy, she liked him, would have wanted to spend more time with him, but love? No. Not even on the table. Not for Lexie.

She didn’t do long term, didn’t do intimacy or life-sharing because that way led to heartbreak and mistakes and—

And getting lost in the fucking woods in the goddamn snow!

“This is your fault,” She muttered to Duke, hoping he could somehow pick up on the vibes she was sending, even though she would probably freeze before she could give him another piece of her mind.

She tried to turn around and go back the way she came, but the snow was slick and it was hard to keep her footing going downhill, so she walked in lines across, trying to zigzag around, but quickly lost track of how well she was sticking to the path she’d come up. The attempt lasted about an hour before she gave up and curled into a small space under an uprooted tree. It was still cold, but the wind and snow couldn’t get in, so it filled with her body heat decently well.

Sleeping was the worst thing to do, she knew that from her shows, but now that she was huddled up, tired from her hike, it wasn’t so difficult to let her heavy eyelids drift shut. She fought for a while, but ultimately couldn’t keep it up.

She fell asleep.

When she woke up, though it didn’t really feel like waking up, she was in a version of her apartment that didn’t feel like her apartment.

She was sitting at the counter. Lexie stared at herself, though she wasn’t really herself. She was blond and serious, though she smiled slightly when she saw Lexie.

“Come sit down,” Audrey said. “I think we need to talk.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like it please comment blah blah blah you've heard it. (Seriously though I hope you like it)

Duke would have time later to be ashamed of how long it took him to realize that something was wrong. He was drinking alone—already something to be ashamed about—and it took him a while to scrounge together the courage needed to text Lexie, which she ignored. He called her after that, and she let it ring.

Retrospectively, that was when he should have been worried. She was pissed off, and a pissed off person would have wanted him to know that she saw he was calling and sent his ass straight to voicemail. At the time, it didn’t even register, and he didn’t leave a voicemail.

Thirty minutes later, he called again and did leave a voicemail, something plaintive and probably stupid.

He called again after another half hour, resolving to do so every hour until he was sober enough to drive to her place and talk to her like an adult.

Three hours later, he made it to the Gull despite the gathering snowstorm and, after knocking on the door to no answer, walked into her apartment. He saw her phone was sitting on the counter, and that everything was in order, aside from the fact that it was completely empty.

“Shit,” He muttered, a creepingly bad feeling starting up his spine. Her sneakers, the ones she’d worn on her last ill-advised emotional exercise stint, were sitting next to the door.

If she wasn’t out running, there was really no way to know for sure where she’d gone, but a quick perusal of the apartment left him feeling worried enough that he broke his usual resolve not to ever ask Nathan for help with anything.

Of course the bastard picked up on the first ring. “Duke?”

“We have a problem.”

“What?”

“I think Lexie ran away.”

“Ran away?”

“Her car’s still here, so’s her phone, but she’s gone.” Nathan would only want quick details; they would have time to deal with the why of everything when they were on their way to find her.

“How long?” He heard Nathan’s car door slam and knew he was already on the way.

“I last saw her a few hours ago.”

“Any reason she would run.”

“Well…”

“Duke.”

“We got into a fight.” His jaw flexed with the admission, as though he didn’t want to let the words out, didn’t want to admit to Nathan that he had failed.

“Bad?”

“She knows I’m trying to end the troubles.”

“Fuck.” Nathan only swore occasionally, certainly less than Duke did—Lexie and Audrey put them both to shame—so when he did it felt stronger than the word usually might have been. “Be there soon.”

He arrived in time that could only be made by someone who drove the most recognizable cop car in Haven. Nathan was obviously in full investigative mode, barely even bothering to greet Duke as he walked into the apartment.

Given the circumstances, it would be wrong to compare Nathan to one of those droopy-eyed detective dogs, but if things hadn’t been so dire, there would have been jokes to be made, with the way he moved methodically through the room, even actually sniffing occasionally.

“Her boots are missing,” Nathan said.

“How could you possibly know that?” Duke frowned at the stack of shoes that Lexie and Audrey collectively had; it didn’t look like any were missing.

“I got her those boots,” Nathan admitted after a moment. “And they’re not here.”

“Does that mean…” Duke didn’t want to say it out loud. He didn’t even want to think it. But she had left the running shoes Lexie had admitted to being fond of, and taken boots that Nathan gave Audrey.

Did that mean it wasn’t Lexie who’d left the apartment?

More importantly, was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Obviously Nathan was having the same thoughts, but Duke knew he had a definite answer for the second question, which still had Duke floundering. 

On one hand, he missed Audrey, on the other, he liked Lexie, hell, maybe even loved her, given a bit more time. If a magical wish-granting troubled person walked into the room right now and told Duke he could choose Lexie or Audrey, he had no idea who he would pick.

Sometimes Duke envied Nathan’s stubborn single-mindedness. Nathan knew which girl he wanted, and he knew how far he would go to get her. Duke second-guessed everything.

Perhaps that was the end result of who they had been growing up. Nathan was the cop son of a cop, told his whole life what good looked like and then made himself look like that. Duke was the crook son of a crook and a murderer; told his whole life he was bad. Now, Nathan assumed everything he did was good, and Duke had no idea what good even was.

“Duke?” Nathan asked, waving his hand in front of Duke’s face. “Where’d you go?”

Duke stepped away, shaking his head to clear his thoughts like a dog trying to dry off. “Nowhere.”

Nathan stared for another long moment, and Duke knew the only reason he didn’t press was because they had more important things to worry about. Because Audrey would always be more important than whatever Duke was dealing with.

That was yet another thought Duke pushed roughly away; he did not have time to be jealous of Nathan and Audrey, did not have time to confront that particular long-buried wound.

Whoever she was—Lexie or Audrey—she was missing, and it was getting dark, and snow was falling.

“Let’s go,” He said, moving towards the door.

Nathan stared out at the dimming light. “Where?”

“There’s a trailhead not far,” He said, pointing just down the coast, which would lead up a cliff and into thick woods, the falling snow hadn’t quite obscured it yet, but visibility wouldn’t be good for long. “If she wanted to get lost, that would be the way.”

Nathan nodded wordlessly and left. Duke followed, staring out at those trees and wondering who—if anyone—they would find in there.

* * *

“How is this possible,” Lexie asked. “You’re me, but you’re here, but… am I losing my mind?”

Audrey shrugged. “Maybe.”

“That wasn’t helpful.”

“I don’t have all the answers,” Audrey replied. “Contrary to popular belief.”

Lexie glared. “Am I dead? Is this where we go when we die or get erased or whatever happens? Holy fuck, is this the barn?”

She laughed a little. “No. This is definitely not the barn, and you aren’t dead, although going hiking without a map and not bringing a phone was not a move that sets us up for a long and fulfilling life.”

“There is no us,” Lexie snapped. “There’s just me!”

“Lexie…” Audrey said, quietly and kindly, a tone for whispering troubles. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

The glare was fixed for another minute until it finally cracked, and Lexie slid into a chair, dropping her head into her hands. “I don’t want you here! I just want to have my head to myself!”

“I know the feeling,” Audrey said drily. She remembered her own struggles with identity. “You handled all this better than I did, though. I locked myself in a hotel room with cupcakes for two days.”

Finally, Lexie had something to laugh at. She couldn’t picture Audrey—fearless and perfect Audrey—binging on cupcakes when upset, or even being upset in the first place.

“Do you want some tea?” Audrey offered, gesturing to her mug.

Lexie stared at it. She hadn’t noticed that Audrey had anything in her hand. “Is this even real?” She asked instead of answering.

Audrey shrugged. “Is anything?”

Lexie felt her glare slide firmly back into place. “So, what? This is some Dumbledore bullshit? Just because it’s happening in my head doesn’t mean it’s not real?”

“I never read Harry Potter.”

That just gave Lexie something new to be mad about, which she needed because everything else was too weird. “Seriously? All the knockoff Twilight bullshit and you never read Harry Potter?”

“At least my vampire bullshit is about adults,” Audrey snapped, finally almost allowing herself to get mad at Lexie.

They both knew the book talk was thinly veiled fury over what the other represented, over what they had done, but it was much easier to act like the only thing at stake was wizards vs vampires, adventures vs romances.

“Whatever,” Lexie huffed. “Look, what am I even doing here?”

“Slowly getting hypothermia,” Audrey answered shortly. “So don’t waste time. It’s my body too, you know.”

“Not anymore.”

Audrey forced herself to compose her face. Anger wasn’t what this was about. It was supposed to be a negotiation. She wanted this to work out. “I know this is hard, Lexie, but I think we need to face some facts.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Lexie really wished she didn’t sound like a bitchy teenager compared to Audrey’s infuriatingly grown-up patience.

“The barn didn’t erase me right,” Audrey admitted. “I shouldn’t still be here, but I am.”

“Fine. is that all?”

Audrey sighed. “And that it’s hard to live like this, for both of us—”

“I would be fine if you would just leave me alone!” Lexie snapped. “Everything is fine except for you.”

“That isn’t true—”

The TV in the corner flared to life, showing Audrey a montage of moments that made Lexie cringe, each one a cruel reminder of Audrey’s perfection. Nathan starred in most of them.

Audrey watched the TV, trying hard not to get caught up in Nathan. She’d been hovering in the background of Lexie’s mind, missing him, for so long that she’d come up with this plan, because this would be better than nothing.

“See,” Lexie said, pointing at the TV. She hadn’t meant to turn it on and start the memory slideshow, but she wasn’t that mad about it. It proved a point. “If it weren’t for you—”

“I’m sorry that people miss me,” Audrey said, but neither of them believed her. “But that’s not exactly my fault and you really haven’t given them time to get over it—”

“Right, of course this is my fault!”

“It’s not about fault!” Audrey snapped. “It just is. I’m here! I stuck around even though Howard or the barn or what-fucking-ever tried to get rid of me!”

Lexie had never thought to picture Audrey mad. In her mind, Audrey had always been sunshine and rainbows and optimism. She wasn’t scared or desperate, didn’t yell or glower. It was nice to see that she could rage and swear. Lexie finally related to her, if only a little bit.

“Look,” Audrey continued after a moment to catch her breath, “We need to deal with this, somehow, and I’ve been thinking—”

“Really? You can think when you’re a parasite living in the back of my head?”

“ _Our_ head,” Audrey said, biting down hard on her irritation. “Don’t you see? It was never yours, not fully, because I’ve been here the whole time.”

Audrey gestured to the TV, which was playing what Lexie knew were moments Audrey had helped her, but Lexie refused to be grateful. She hadn’t asked for help.

She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring stubbornly at Audrey. She shouldn’t have to share. It was supposed to be her turn!

“Lexie,” Audrey said, once again trying the gentle tone she used to trouble-whisper, “I know this is hard, trust me, but we can’t keep doing this. We have to figure something else out. Something fair.”

“Fair?” Lexie snorted to hide what might have been a sob. “In what universe is any of this fair? I get dragged into this freaky-ass town and I’m told that all my memories are fake, and I used to be you, when all I wanted was to be a bartender at some stupid waste of space bar. I was good at that. I liked my life. Now…”

“I know,” Audrey said. “Now it’s complicated, and scary and… a lot of things, but you’re right, it is unfair.”

“And you want to try and fix that?”

“I can’t undo any of that,” Audrey admitted. “But moving forward I’d like to—please don’t freak out until after I’ve explained—combine into one person, a little of both of us.”

In her defense, Lexie didn’t freak out. She was too shocked to form words for several seconds and just opened and shut her mouth like a caught fish. “What?”

It was only one of dozens of four-letter words Lexie had been considering, but she figured there would be time for the others.

Audrey was still trying to maintain her tenuous grip on her calm. “I mean it. The two of us could pick and choose parts of one another, some of each. At the end of it, we won’t be Lexie or Audrey, we’ll be both, and a completely new person. Neither of us knows what that’s really like, so this is—”

“This is what?” Lexie interrupted. “The best option? A blessing in disguise? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Well what do you want to call it? Maybe it’s because you never met the real you, but let me tell you, it’s crazy, and it makes you feel… I can’t even explain it. It makes you feel wrong, and fake. Lexie, we have a chance to be us, whoever that is. Don’t you at least want to try?”

Audrey looked so desperate, and it was an expression Lexie hated seeing on her own face, despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that she’d seen it in the mirror so many times. Still, she’d never been a girl who gave in easy. “Okay, let’s just say I agree to this insanity. What happens?”

“We negotiate,” Audrey explained, forcing herself not to be too hopeful. “We choose aspects of ourselves we can’t part with and hash out the rest.”

“Hash out?” The barely disguised hope on Audrey’s face was right on the line between tragic and pathetic, but it softened Lexie a little. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, we work together to decide who we become. How does that sound?”

Lexie looked away. “I don’t know…”

“Lex, all these years, we’ve gone into the barn and Howard has rewritten us. He chooses our personalities, our hair, our lives, and then sends us back into Haven to stare at people who _know us_ without a clue. This is finally a chance for us to choose who we are.”

“And our hair?” Lexie asked.

Audrey smiled, clearly seeing that her speech had worked. “And our hair.”

Finally, Lexie nodded. “That’ll be the first item on the docket then. Whose hair?”

“Hmm… my cut, your color?”

Lexie made a face. “No dice. My cut, your color?”

“What cut?” Audrey asked, gesturing to Lexie’s long, wild curls. “All that will get in the—” She stopped, took a deep breath, and finally nodded. “You know what? Fine. We can keep your hair. But I want to be blond again.”

“I’m blond!”

Audrey raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly.”

After a moment, Audrey nodded decisively. “Alright, that’s settled. What next?”

“Taste in alcohol.” Lexie said. “I say we keep mine; martinis are bullshit.”

“I could not care any less. Fine.”

“Clothing taste.”

“Mine,” Audrey said quickly. “This is Maine, and for god’s sake you need to dress like it. We’ll be freezing! And I hate skirts.”

“I would rather die than wear a fucking sensible pantsuit, Audrey.”

“Fine, maybe I could stand to loosen up a little, but I’m not wearing skirts and tank tops. There’s a middle ground here.”

Lexie nodded and held out her hand to shake. “Middle ground it is.”

It went on like that, with each of them taking points in various battles, all of which seemed to be building to the most important ones, but Lexie was the one to raise the topic they’d always been skating around. “Taste in men?”

“Nathan,” Audrey said immediately. “After everything… I can’t just…”

“You like Duke too!” Lexie insisted. “And seriously.” She flicked her hand and the TV came back to life, showing a snippet of the night she’d spent with Duke. “He doesn’t deserve to lose me anymore than Nathan deserved to lose you.”

Audrey chewed on her lip. “You’re right, I do like Duke, but…” She changed the TV, showing her kiss with Nathan before she’d gone into the barn, the way he’d stared at her like she was his whole world. “I can’t do that to him.”

Lexie groaned and dropped her head onto the table. “There’s something else we haven’t considered here; they want us to kill whoever we choose.”

“Not happening,” Audrey said, her tone ringing with finality.

“I’m with you,” Lexie said, glad they were in agreement for once, “But then what do we do about the troubles. There’s no more barn for us to go into.”

Audrey nodded, considering this. “You know, I’ve had a lot of time to think since I’ve been trapped in the back of your mind. Something about the whole “kill the one you love” thing just feels wrong, right?”

“Killing people probably should.”

“That’s not what I mean, well, not all of what I mean. Come on, what’s the only way to end a trouble?”

“Killing someone,” Lexie answered immediately, like she was in high school again, but for once she knew the answers to the pop quiz.

“Exactly. It’s like they’re a part of the person and taking them out—”

“The trouble has to be cut out, and doing that kills them,” Lexie finished. “So what you’re saying is that maybe—”

“Maybe killing the one we love ends the troubles by—”

“Killing everyone,” They said in unison.

Audrey met her eyes grimly. “If we can convince them of that, then we could have our pick. No killing.”

Lexie liked the sound of that. “Our pick, huh? How crazy are we willing to get here?”

“What do you mean?” Audrey asked.

“Look, I’m willing to admit that if Nathan loosened up a bit—okay, a lot—he wouldn’t be so bad. You obviously like Duke, and neither of us is dumb enough to think they don’t love each other. There’s a solution here.”

“You mean…” Some fantasies Audrey never would have mentioned under any circumstances were coming to mind. Unconsciously, she changed the TV to show moments she’d witnessed between Nathan and Duke. Times when they’d touched casually, the way they moved in each other’s space, completely comfortable. A flush crawled up her neck and she flicked the TV off again.

Lexie was smiling wickedly. “What would you say to both?”

Audrey returned the smile. “I mean, if we’re willing to become one person for them, sure they could get over themselves, right?” It was easier to joke than to face the reality that the one fix they had for the troubles might be worse than the troubles themselves.

But if they had to live in a world with troubles, wouldn’t it be nice to face that with Nathan and Duke at her sides? And also possibly in her bed?

“Exactly. So, it’s settled?”

The flush had not calmed down, and Audrey knew she existed in the mind of someone currently succumbing to hypothermia, but she felt very warm. “Definitely settled.” 

“Well then I think there’s just one more important issue,” Lexie said. “Whose name? Because, I really don’t think we can combine Audrey and Lexie in any cute way.”

“Mine,” Audrey said. “We agreed to go back to being a cop, who the hell would trust a cop named Lexie?”

“What’s wrong with Lexie? And if you insisted, we could go back to being Alexandra. Or Alex, what about Alex?”

“No.” Audrey insisted. “I’ve come this far; I want to be me. Besides, I like the way our boys say my name.”

Lexie rolled her eyes and played the way Duke had said her name when they were fucking, just to make a point.

Audrey countered with clips of both of them saying _her_ name with varying degrees of love, desperation, and utter devotion.

It was a point in her favor, not that Lexie would have admitted it. “Fine. I think there’s only one grown up way to settle this.” She held out her hands, one fist resting in her palm. “Rock paper scissors.”

Audrey matched the gesture. “Throw on scissors or on shoot?”

“On shoot,” Lexie said. “Jesus, I’m not a fucking heathen. Best two out of three.”

Rock. Rock.

Scissors. Scissors.

Paper. Rock.

Scissors. Rock.

Scissors. Paper.

“I win.” She said.

* * *

“It’s fucking freezing out here,” Duke muttered, blowing into his hands.

Nathan just shrugged. “Is it?”

Duke rolled his eyes and pushed further into the darkness. Nathan followed the sound of his footsteps in the snow; once he’d gotten more than a few feet ahead it was hard to see him through snow-laden branches.

The storm had mostly subsided, leaving only a light snowfall in its wake. In other circumstances it all might have been nice, the dark forest, the snow, the trees, there was something almost romantic about it. Not that Nathan wanted to be going on romantic walks with an obviously pissed off Duke. As it was, they were following little more than a gut instinct on where Lexie had gone. Any trace she might have left having been covered in snow ages ago, possibly even before the two of them had taken to the trail.

“Duke,” Nathan broached carefully, “We don’t even know she went this way, hell, she might not even be outside—”

“Nathan, she exercises when she’s stressed. Last time it was running, who’s to say that this time it isn’t hiking?”

“Lexie isn’t stupid,” Nathan said, forcing himself to say her name because he was actively refusing to entertain the possibility that it wasn’t Lexie who’d left the apartment. “She wouldn’t stay out here in the snow.”

“So maybe she tried to go back in and got lost. We have to keep looking.”

Nathan didn’t ask what they were looking for. He didn’t need to, though Duke probably would have benefitted from some explanation. When it came to the water, Duke was the expert, be it sailing or swimming. But on land, in the woods? That was where Nathan felt confident.

Of course, all the tracking skills in the world were mostly useless right after four inches of fresh snow. He bent down to retie his boot, fumbling slightly with fingers stiffened by cold he couldn’t feel.

He stayed down there, observing his hands, checking for signs of frostbite just in case, though he didn’t think there was too much risk of that yet. While there, he looked at the bush next to him and noticed something.

Twigs were broken, bent out of shape and scattered around. “Duke, look at this.”

He stared. “It’s a dead bush, Nathan.”

It wasn’t actually dead, it was just winter, but Nathan didn’t bother explaining that. “No, look. Look at how it’s broken. You can barely tell under the snow, but it looks like—”

“Like something crashed through it.” An almost manic streak of hope lit Duke’s eyes.

“It might not be her,” Nathan cautioned, but he was struggling to come up with anything big enough that would still be out in this weather. “But if it is, she’s not on our path. It looks like there’s a trail going that way.”

He pointed to the side and vaguely downwards. At some point, Lexie must have realized she needed to go home, but her tracks would have already been buried, leaving her unable to follow her own footprints home.

“Let’s go.” Duke crashed into the underbrush, destroying whatever foliage remained after Lexie’s rampage.

Nathan, feeling like a kid again—trailing after Duke on some likely pointless adventure—followed.

They found her huddled in a little hollow of dirt made by a half-uprooted tree.

Duke pulled up short and Nathan crashed into him, too stunned to notice that he’d stopped moving.

“Is she…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Training took over after another beat of shock and he bent down, pressing his fingers against her pulse. He was abruptly aware of how cold his fingers were, but he pushed past that to feel the gentle flutter of her pulse.

He looked up at Duke who was horror-struck. “She’s alive,” He said, “But we really need to get her out of here.”

Duke nodded wordlessly and bent down, lifting her easily. The snow wasn’t falling heavily enough to erase their footprints, and nothing would undo the damage they’d done to the underbrush, so they had a clear path back to the trail. They didn’t need words, moving silently and efficiently through the snowy forest. When Duke started to slow, Nathan carefully took Lexie from him and carried her the rest of the way back to the Gull.

They arranged her on the couch in front of the fireplace and Duke got every blanket in the room while Nathan built and lit the fire.

“We need to take her clothes off,” Duke said, hesitating and glancing at Nathan.

“You’re right.”

Neither of them moved.

“Should I—” Duke offered, gesturing vaguely at Lexie. “Or, I mean, you could—”

“Maybe—”

On the couch, Lexie shivered pitifully, and conversation stopped as they both moved to do what needed to be done. Nathan made a point of trying to touch her as little as possible, trying very hard not to feel. They stopped at her underwear without discussion and wrapped her carefully in the blankets.

Nathan looked away as gently brushed Lexie’s hair off of her face. The look in his eyes was so openly adoring that something in Nathan ached, pain so acute it was nearly physical. Whether that was because she had once been Audrey and once been his, or because it was Duke, and whether or not he would ever acknowledge it, there was a part of him that wanted him to look at _him_ that way, Nathan couldn’t say.

Needing to get away, or maybe just giving them a bit of privacy, Nathan went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine out of the cupboard. It felt more like a hard liquor kind of occasion, but he couldn’t find any at first glance and didn’t feel inclined to go searching.

Lexie apparently wasn’t the kind of person who regularly did dishes, because he couldn’t find any clean glasses, so he didn’t even bother and returned to the living area with just the opened bottle.

He took a swig and handed the bottle to Duke.

“This is disgraceful,” Duke said mildly before doing the same thing.

Nathan almost managed a smile; he had forgotten Duke’s pretentions about alcohol. They lapsed into silence, passing the bottle between them.

Lexie didn’t move.

“What if she dies?” Nathan finally said, because they were both thinking about it and there was no point in not at least trying to discuss it.

“I don’t know,” Duke said.

All their time arguing about who would die to end the troubles, and here they were sitting with her while she hovered on the brink of life and death.

“What will we do without her?” He asked, not sure if he was talking about the troubles, or just generally, what would their world be without her in it?

“I don’t know, Nathan,” Duke snapped, and then he softened, dropping his head to rest between his knees. They were both sitting on the floor, not willing to be even as far away from her as the chairs on either side of the couch. The bottle sat on the ground next to them. Duke took a long sip. “All these years and nothing like this has ever happened.”

“Must be something special about us,” Nathan smiled humorlessly.

There was another long stretch of silence where they just drank, until finally Duke said, “You should have just let her go.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Nathan snapped, immediately going on the defensive despite Duke’s mild tone.

He held up a hand, interrupting before Nathan could go on a rant. “But now, I get it. I wouldn’t… I don’t… I wouldn’t want to give her up either.”

“Who do you think she is?” Nathan asked. “I mean… when she wakes up, is there a chance…”

“I think there’s a chance.” Only Nathan, who had known Duke his entire life and knew his face perfectly, could have spotted the pain on his face, could have known the absolute agony those words brought him.

Hope was a dangerous thing. Nathan was fighting a losing battle with it as he looked at Lexie—or maybe, just possibly, Audrey—asleep on the couch.

“It’s really hot in here,” Duke said. “Just thought you should know. Might want to take your coat off.”

He hadn’t even noticed that he was still wearing it, but peeled it off, noticing that he was sweating underneath it. “Thanks.”

They’d killed more than half the bottle at this point, and Nathan thought he might be approaching buzzed. He was at least intoxicated enough that he thought it was a good idea to say, “I missed you, you know, when you were gone.”

Duke looked up, surprised. Nathan wondered if there was any way he didn’t know that. “Yeah… I… I’ve missed you. Even before I was gone.”

That was a bigger admission than Nathan’s had been, but he was glad it was out there, glad that Duke, at least, had the courage to say it.

“Me too,” Nathan finally said. He wondered for the first time if, back when it counted, he’d been able to let Audrey go, if at some point he and Duke would have ended up in this same place, drunk on her living room floor and turning to each other in joint grief.

There was so much left to say. So much they never discussed and never could really discuss, but after all these years the words seemed impossible. He had been so angry for so long, and that had evaporated when Duke had dived into the collapsing barn. Then, because more honest emotions were too difficult to face, he’d been angry again at Duke insisting that he had to be the one to die for Haven.

Now, the anger was gone again, just as abruptly as the first time, and he found himself reaching towards Duke and carefully placing his hand over Duke’s.

Contact, worthless as it was to Nathan, was a nice visual.

Duke stared at their joined hands and looked up at Nathan. His eyes full, his expression something Nathan barely dared to name.

Hope was a dangerous feeling.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going through some really rough stuff right now, so comments and kind words are much appreciated. I can't tell you how this will affect my writing schedule because I might stop writing altogether for a bit, or writing might be the only thing I do for several days. Who knows. Thanks for reading.

Duke didn’t know exactly how long it was normal to sleep when someone was experiencing hypothermia, but he was starting to get the feeling that whatever was happening with Lexie was not normal. Gradually, she warmed up, color returned to her cheeks and she looked healthy and peaceful, but she still didn’t move, didn’t make noise. He had never been one for fairy tales, but even he was wondering if they were approaching a true love’s kiss scenario.

That of course begged the question: who was her true love?

And that was entirely too sappy for Duke, so he stubbornly shelved the thought.

“How long do we wait?” Duke asked Nathan. “Shouldn’t we take her to the hospital at some point?”

Nathan looked at her. “And tell them what? Hypothermia doesn’t put people into comas, Duke. This has to be… it’s something to do with the barn.”

Duke hoped he was right. He hoped whatever this was would simply resolve itself, because the waiting was beginning to drive him mad.

“Do you think she’s… switching back?” Duke finally asked.

“To who?” Nathan asked. “It’s just as likely to be Lexie or Audrey as it is to be Sarah, or Lucy, or whoever she was before all this, when it started.”

That was an alarming thought that Duke hadn’t even considered. What the hell would they do if she woke up as someone completely different? Nathan had a head start with Sarah but neither of them probably stood a chance with Lucy, who’d vaguely known both of them as children.

And that was officially a twisted and fucked up way to think about things, so it was yet another thought he pushed to the back of his mind.

“This is my fault,” Duke said. He’d been thinking it for a while, and assumed Nathan had too, but it was just something else they didn’t say.

Nathan shook his head. “You argued. That happens. You couldn’t have known where it would end up.”

“Am I dying?” Duke asked, fighting a smile.

Nathan looked confused and concerned. “What?”

“Because you’re being nice to me.”

Nathan gave him one of his just-barely smiles. “I’m not only nice to you when you’re dying.”

“No, now that you thought I was dead you’re usually a little nice to me.” He was still smiling, softening his words. He didn’t want to start an argument. He still remembered the way Nathan’s hand had felt on his, warm and a little sweaty, but Duke couldn’t hold that against him because there’s no way Nathan could have known. It had been nice, comfortable, and far more natural than it had any right to be.

“Whatever happens when she wakes up,” Nathan said, “We’ll figure it out.”

Usually, that was something Nathan would have said to Audrey, and Duke found himself glad to be included. Whatever happened, they would face it together.

“What if she wakes up as an evil alternate version of herself,” Duke said, attempting to find some humor in the whole horrible situation.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “That couldn’t happen. There’s no evil version of her.”

“How do you know? She’s been who knows how many people over the years, one of them might have been evil. She’ll run around, I don’t know, weaponizing troubled people to use against us.”

Nathan was laughing, but Duke was pretty sure he was the only one who would know that from looking at him. “That’s ridiculous.”

“We have to be prepared for anything. What would you do in the battle against evil her?”

“If she’s weaponizing troubled people, who’s to say I wouldn’t join her army?” He smiled, finally playing along with the stupid hypothetical. It was a game they’d played as kids. _What would you do if…_

“And leave me to fight her all alone? Nathan, I’m hurt.”

When they were kids, the game had all been zombies and werewolves and vampires, but battling supernatural threats had somewhat lost its appeal after the troubles had started, and Duke didn’t want to talk about animated dead people after he’d found the Colorado Kid’s—James’s—body.

“Eh, I think you could take her.”

Duke glanced at the woman on the couch. “I doubt it.”

“Yeah, I think she’d probably kick both our asses.”

“I think she has.” He and Nathan exchanged smiles, somehow suddenly at peace with the fact that they were both hopelessly, pathetically in love with this woman, even when they had no idea who she was.

The woman in question suddenly stirred, the movement tiny but completely shocking compared to the endless stillness from the past few hours.

They both jumped up to kneel next to her, waiting for another sign of life.

She murmured something incoherent.

“We’re here,” Nathan said, quiet and intense. “We’re here, come back.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and Duke wondered if he’d forgotten the exact color of her eyes, or if he was just shocked by it because they’d been closed for so long.

He smiled, clinging to her hand. “Hey,” He said. “Welcome back.”

She looked between both of them and smiled. “My boys.” Her voice was hoarse and perfect. She pushed at the blankets, trying to sit up.

“Easy there,” Duke said quickly. “You’ve been out for a while. Just take it easy.”

“I feel fine,” She said. “Really. I was just… sorting through some stuff, I guess you could say.”

“What stuff?” Nathan asked carefully. His eyes were that particular shade of bright blue that meant he was about to cry. “Are you, I mean… who are we talking to?”

She smiled at him. “Me.”

“But…”

The smile graduated to a full-on laugh. “I’m going by Audrey again.”

Duke tried very hard to conceal the agony that brought on. Lexie was gone. He kept his grip on Audrey’s hand, but part of him wanted to walk away and take a minute to scream, or cry, or just sit with his misery.

Audrey squeezed his hand. “I’m not gone, Duke, I’m right here.”

He just stared blankly at her.

“I’m not just Audrey anymore, and obviously I’m not just Lexie. We, I guess, combined. I’m both.”

“How… how does that work?” Nathan asked after a moment of letting that sink in. Duke was still reeling too much to ask any questions.

“It’s a long story,” She said. “Can someone make coffee so I can explain? I need to get dressed.” Her smile was a little rueful as she indicated her near nudity. 

A few minutes later they were sitting around Audrey’s kitchen table, each holding mugs though Duke doubted he and Nathan actually wanted them.

“While we were unconscious, we were finally able to talk to each other, and we decided that the best option, so that neither of us would be trapped at the back of the other’s mind, would be to combine. Sorry I was out so long; it took a while to hash out details.”

“Details?” Nathan asked.

“The core of everything,” Audrey said, “Is the same. We want to help troubled people, we want to stay in Haven, we care about both of you.”

Duke nodded. He had seen their bravery, their stubbornness, their compassion and intuition. Between both of them, those things were the same.

“But,” Audrey continued, “There were little things. Some of them dumb, some more important, that we had to sort out. I remember both of our childhoods, not that it matters because we know that they weren’t really _ours_ , but still. Audrey won the argument for whose job we kept, Lexie won taste in reading material and alcohol, Audrey won breakfast food and first name. Audrey conceded that her middle name was dumb, though, so I’m using Lexie’s name for that.”

“Can you… stop for a second?” Nathan said. “I can’t… this sounds insane.”

She tilted her head in a very Audrey-ish way. “More insane than anything else?”

“But you aren’t…” Duke still couldn’t make words express what he was thinking about, but he had to at least try. “You’re not really Audrey.”

“No,” She corrected. “I’m not _just_ Audrey. We compromised. We were really more alike than we were different.”

Nathan snorted and Audrey turned a glare on him. “It’s true, Nathan; I can’t believe you didn’t see it.”

 _He wasn’t really looking,_ Duke thought but didn’t say. He still wasn’t sure what to say, or how to feel about this development. Nathan was clearly back to fixating; he hadn’t so much as looked at Duke since Audrey had woken up.

Duke hated that he cared this much who Nathan was looking at. He’d thought he was over this. Of course, he’d thought he was over it in high school too, and that hadn’t exactly panned out.

One hand-hold was apparently enough to completely undo him; it was sad, really.

“Duke,” She said, reaching for him, but stopping before they actually touched. “I’m still her. Just as much as I’m Audrey.”

“Then where does that leave us?”

She shrugged, her face starting to redden. “I’m not sure.”

Nathan reached out and grabbed her hand. “If you’re Audrey, if you’re back, there’s something we need to talk about—”

“I’m not killing you.” She stated it flatly. This was not something she was willing to argue. She looked at Duke with the same even, stubborn stare. “Or you.”

“Audrey—”

“No. We talked, both of us, and we had a thought about ending the troubles. The only way to end a trouble is killing someone. Death. Who’s to say that killing you won’t end the troubles by just killing everyone?”

“Um…”

Duke sighed. “Bit of a reach, don’t you think?”

“No,” Audrey said. “I have this… this sense, I’m not sure. I’ll be able to find evidence, I promise. But I’m not killing anyone, especially not one of you.”

“Audrey, the troubles—”

“Save it, Nathan.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve made up my mind. Until further notice, I’m not killing either of you.”

“And when further notice comes?” Duke asked. “Audrey…” God, he did not know how to ask her where the hell he fit into this psychodrama.

“It’s not about the name, Duke,” She said, her full attention on him. “What we had; it didn’t go away.” This time when she reached for his hand, she didn’t stop. She brought it up to her lips and pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

His breath caught in his throat; he was once again undone by hand holding. _What we had._ She had said ‘We’ not ‘You’ not ‘you and her’. We.

Nathan was watching them both, and even Duke found himself unable to decipher his expression.

“It’s true for both of you,” Audrey said, reaching for Nathan.

For a second, Duke thought he would pull away, maybe even get up and leave like he had at the café and every time he might have been forced to spend time with them since she’d been Lexie.

But he didn’t. He twined his fingers with Audrey’s, a look of pure relief on his face. “You’re… you.” He said it like she was a miracle, and in many ways, Duke supposed, she was.

* * *

Ever since realizing that she had been Lucy, Audrey had felt adrift and unsure. Meeting the real Audrey Prudence Parker had not helped. It had left her feeling less than real, like she was a character in her own life.

Now, being Audrey Alexandra Parker, she felt like herself, whatever the hell that meant. It was the first time that not knowing exactly who she was felt like a good thing, like a thing she would get to discover over time and with more exploration and experimentation. It was an adventure she was going to have, every day, for the rest of her life.

She had learned already, though, that she liked holding hands with Nathan and Duke, liked feeling connected to and anchored by them. This was something that she had discussed with her halves, a conversation that already felt like a weird, distant dream.

She remembered being each of them, but somehow conceptualizing them as separate people felt wrong. They were her. Some of their discussions, deliberations, and negotiations had faded into the back of her mind, gone to wherever dreams go when she forgot them. Others remained. She remembered the fateful game of rock paper scissors. She remembered debating about hair and reminded herself to book an appointment to fix her color.

She also remembered that part of the arrangement was that she didn’t leave either of her boys. The only question left was how to tell them that, and how to get them on board. It didn’t feel right to stay with one if the other wouldn’t be there. It was all or nothing.

Taking a deep breath, she looked between them. _Here goes nothing. If I fail… well, there’s always Chris Brody._

That thought actually made her laugh out loud, which made Nathan and Duke give her strange looks, but at least she was feeling a little less tense.

“I... there’s something we all need to talk about. And I know both of you want to ask. Duke, you were with Lexie. Nathan, you Audrey were… something. I know you’re both wondering what happens with that now that I’m them. Or, they’re me.”

“Something like that,” Duke muttered. He looked at Nathan, and Audrey got the sense that something had happened between the two of them while she was unconscious, and she hoped eventually she’d know what it was.

“Well, that was something they… we—I? I’m not sure, whatever—it was discussed, okay?”

“And who did you choose?” Nathan asked, with a note of bitterness that suggested he thought he already knew, and that it wasn’t him.

“We couldn’t,” Audrey said simply. “So, we decided on both.”

“On what now?” Duke asked. He swallowed hard, eyes flicking to Nathan and then back to Audrey. What she wouldn’t give to be able to read minds.

“Both,” She repeated, for his benefit and the still-dumbstruck Nathan. “I can’t… I love you both and I’m not choosing. I’m not torn. I want you both. So, now I just need to know how you would feel about that.”

“What about us?” Nathan asked, gesturing between himself and Duke. “If you’re with both of us, are we with each other?”

Duke’s breath hitched audibly, and Audrey had to bite on a smile.

“That would be up to you,” She said carefully, looking between them. “I’d be happy to give input, but it’s not really my decision.”

She knew this was where it would get difficult. This part would require them to actually talk about their feelings and admit—

“I could be with both of you?” Nathan looked up at them, the expression that Audrey had always loved so much, like he was looking at the entire world when he looked at her, was split between her and Duke. “Yes.”

It was not a grand speech, but he’d never been much for those anyway. It was very him; monosyllabic but intense and utterly honest.

Duke was still just staring, his expression inscrutable. “This… this isn’t happening.” He stood up, pacing away from them.

Nathan jumped up to go after him, but Audrey put a hand on his arm, holding him in place. Whatever was happening in Duke’s head, they had to let it happen. The decision was his, no matter how much they might want to influence it. He stared at her, confused and desperate. _Oh, Nathan, always trying to change the outcome._

“I don’t buy this,” Duke finally said. “There’s no way you… No.”

“Duke,” Audrey said quietly. “Three things I love best, remember?”

For a second, it looked like he might soften, might say something or close the distance between them. And then Nathan’s phone rang. He answered, nodded, hung up, sighed.

“You know that third thing?” He asked. “We need to go do that. Will you be okay?” He looked at Audrey.

“Let me just get changed,” She said, glancing down at the thick Haven PD sweats she’d put on after waking up. They were warm, but not exactly professional. She left Nathan still sitting at the table, and Duke standing in the center of the apartment looking lost.

 _It’ll work out,_ She told herself, refusing to let her confidence flag.

Her wardrobe was suddenly a lot less appealing than it had been. Nothing of Audrey’s seemed right—too beige and boring, the clothes of an FBI agent with no life— and everything of Lexie’s just made her shiver—she was still recovering from hypothermia, after all.

In the end, she tugged on a pair of jeans and the flannel Nathan had given her shortly after she’d decided to stay in Haven. She would figure this out later.

She returned to the living room to grab her jacket and found Nathan and Duke having one of their silent discussions. They would either let her in the loop or finish it and move on eventually, so she shrugged it off. “Ready?”

They both nodded and made their way to Nathan’s truck, which was piled high with snow.

“Shit,” Nathan muttered. “Hang on.”

He went into the trunk, shifting the pile of snow, which fell on his head. Audrey couldn’t hold in a laugh—despite the usual Haven awful, it felt good to be alive, and everything was a little funnier than it had any right to be— he gave her a mildly annoyed look and went back to digging around in the trunk.

He pulled out three scrapers, because of course he had three, and offered the other two to them. Audrey put her hands up, refusing to take it. “I almost died; I’ll turn the car on and help from in there.”

He gave her the ‘seriously?’ eyebrows, but in the year they’d been partners, she’d become immune.

As she climbed into the cab, she noticed Duke watching her, and hoped that there was a faint smile on his face. Smiles with Duke were hard. Unlike Nathan, he was fully capable of faking one, and often did for the benefit of everyone else, allowing himself to sit quietly in misery. In her experience, the wider the smile, the more likely it was to be bullshit. This one was hesitant and small, which gave her a faint twinge of hope that maybe, maybe, that conversation in her apartment wasn’t completely finished.

* * *

Even if Nathan had been able to feel the half-pound of snow that had dropped on his head and down his coat, he doubted it would have brought his mood down. If only Duke would stop being so goddamn stubborn, they could find a way to make this work.

 _Pot, kettle, Nathan,_ An inner voice that sounded a little too much like Duke’s reminded him. Neither of them was exactly a stranger to stubbornness.

He wanted desperately to believe what Audrey had said about ending the troubles. It would set them back and they’d have to start looking for new solutions, but he could have that idiotic what if he’d been forcing himself to stop considering. None of them had to die, they could all… well, if what Audrey had proposed actually worked, they could all be together.

Yet another thing he wouldn’t have normally allowed himself to hope for. With Audrey awake and maybe not exactly herself, but more herself than she had been, things that seemed completely impossible just hours ago were things that really could happen now.

Once the car was drivable, he pulled carefully out of the Gull’s parking lot and started to make his way to the station on roads obscured by snow.

“We should have taken my car,” Duke said as they fishtailed around a corner.

“The heating doesn’t work in your car,” Audrey pointed out, though even Nathan could see her white-knuckled grip on the door handle.

“Great, we’ll be warm while we crash,” Duke muttered, loud enough that they could all hear.

“Did Dwight say what we were dealing with?” Audrey changed the subject wisely, as Nathan had been formulating a comeback about Duke’s car.

He let the potential argument drop. “Most of it will probably be usual first big snow of the season stuff, but he said there was something weird he wanted me to look at.”

“That might not even be a trouble,” Duke pointed out.

“Might not be,” Nathan agreed. “But it also might be.” He knew the conversation with Duke wasn’t finished, knew that something he probably wouldn’t like was going on in Duke’s head, but he had wanted to jump on this. It was the three of them again, going to deal with a trouble (or possibly just the usual crazy Mainers in a snowstorm), and despite everything the world felt right.

At least assuming that they made it to the station without sliding off the road. He had years of experience driving in snow though, and he knew these roads perfectly even when he couldn’t see them under the thick blanket of white, so they made it okay.

“Why am I here?” Duke asked as they walked in.

Nathan shrugged. “Thought you’d want to be.”

Duke looked at him, and Nathan caught glimpses of surprise, confusion, and maybe a little hope before his expression closed off again. “Right. I do. I just thought you wouldn’t want me to be.”

They weren’t talking about a case anymore. Audrey was tactfully walking a few steps ahead, but he suspected she was listening.

“Of course I do,” He said, meeting Duke’s eyes as bravely as he could.

“No offense, Nate, but that’s not exactly something I can assume.”

His eye contact flagged, and he stared at the ground ashamed. “I know, Duke. I… after everything… I know what it’s like to lose you now. Don’t want that. Rather have you close.”

He cleared his throat. That was entirely too much earnestness. Taking the coward’s way out, he avoided looking at Duke as he walked into the bullpen, leaving the conversation in the hallway.

Dwight was leaning in the doorway of his office when they walked in and he stared at the three of them together a curious expression on his face.

“Duke, Lexie. Wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’m going by Audrey again,” She said smoothly, as though there was nothing odd about that at all.

It still made Nathan feel a little warm to hear her say her name.

Dwight opened and closed his mouth several times. “Audrey?”

She smiled. “Mostly.” Stepping forward, she opened her arms and he pulled her into a hug.

It didn’t last very long before Dwight’s guard member instincts kicked in. “Look, Audrey, I’m happy you’re back, but…”

“I’m not really _back_ ,” Audrey said.

“Audrey and Lexie combined,” Nathan explained, hoping that by doing so he could wrap his head around the idea. “Now they’re one person, going by Audrey.”

Dwight sank slowly into the seat behind his desk, rubbing his hands over his face. “So… first she was Audrey, killing you would have ended the trouble. Then she was Lexie, killing Duke would have ended the troubles. Now she’s Audrey again, but a new one and—”

“And she’s not killing anyone to end anything,” Audrey said decisively.

Dwight opened his mouth, but this time Duke cut him off. “Audrey and Lexie had a theory that maybe killing someone she loved would kill all troubled people.”

Again, Dwight opened his mouth, but this time Audrey was the one to interrupt. “We don’t have a reliable source for how me killing someone would work, and all the evidence we have suggests that getting rid of a trouble kills people, or you need to die to do it. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Does it not make sense, or do you just not want to do it?” Dwight asked, sounding not angry, exactly, but disappointed. “Lexie… Audrey, look, this is hard for everyone. No one wants anyone to die, but—”   
“Give me… give me a week. I’ll find something to back up what I said.”

“Three days,” Dwight said.

Audrey nodded. “Okay, three days.” Nathan could see her doing mental math, shifting whatever her plans were to accommodate a shorter timeline.

“And if someone dies in those three days—”

“They’re on us,” Nathan said. _Mostly me._ “We know.”

Audrey took his hand, the shock of sensation startling him speechless for a second, but he squeezed it, grateful for the comfort she offered.

“Fine, but if the sun goes down on that third day, we’re ending this.” His voice was grim, but Nathan thought there was something pleading in his face. Maybe, underneath his gruffness, he really wanted them to pull this off. “And whatever you find has to be enough to prove it to the whole guard, not just me.”

The implied _Because I would go easy on you_ was probably more kindness than he deserved, but Nathan appreciated it.

He hoped to a god he didn’t believe in that Audrey could follow up, because if they reached Dwight’s deadline and Audrey had to kill someone, he didn’t know who it would be. She loved him and Duke; he believed that completely. Did that mean she would have to decide? Or would she have to kill them both?

As unimaginable as losing Duke had been, as unpalatable as being killed had been, there was nothing to compare to the unspeakable possibility of both of them leaving her alone. He had been the one left behind when they’d both gone into the barn and they had been the worst months he’d ever lived through. There were nights—more than he’d like to remember—that he truly hadn’t thought he could force himself to survive it. Whatever else he had to do; he wouldn’t let Audrey go through that.

“Until then,” Dwight said, “We’ve got something new.”

“Yay,” Duke muttered, but no one acknowledged it as Dwight led them down to the holding cells.

“Still in there, Ross?” He called towards the first cell.

“Yeah.” The voice in the cell sounded resigned, irritated, not usually the voice of someone whose trouble was plaguing them. “Don’t see why we had to go through all this; I’m not dangerous, Dwight, you know that.”

“You made a tiger.” Dwight tossed an exasperated glance over his shoulder as he unlocked the door.

Nathan and Audrey exchanged a glance, not sure if they wanted to meet an irritated man with the ability to make tigers.

“This is going to sound strange,” Dwight said, “But his trouble’s gotten worse.”

This time, all three of them exchanged glanced, and Audrey smiled smugly. “And you didn’t believe me.”

“You’ve seen something like this before?”

Audrey shrugged. “Maybe. Let me talk to him.”

“Hi. It’s Ross, right?”

The man in the cell nodded, Nathan kept himself mostly out of sight, figuring this was a guard member who probably wouldn’t want to see him. Thankfully, Ross’s attention was mostly on Audrey.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Audrey went on.

Ross shrugged. “My family has one of the… less bad troubles out there. Better than the other branch of my family, anyway. When we draw things, they start to move. Today I was coloring with my kid.” He looked up, daring anyone to laugh at him, but no one did. Nathan was certain his father had never done anything like that and found it rather sweet. “He likes tigers, so I drew him one and… well, lucky I had a shotgun nearby. Hope my wife likes the new rug.”

“So usually the drawings just move a little bit—”

“Yeah, they can’t get past the paper, but this one. This was live and in the room.”

“Is the kid okay?” Duke asked.

Ross glared at him before his expression softened a little. “Four-year-olds aren’t scared of anything. He thought it was the coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

Audrey smiled at that. Nathan felt himself relax a little too; kids being impacted by troubles hit him on a more personal level.

“We have seen something like this before.” Audrey was right back to business. “He’d had… an encounter with some people. They hurt him. Did Anything like that happen to you?”

The guy shrugged. “I got into a fight the other day at the Scupper. Some tourist, I think. Real big, kinda weird looking. He said something rude about the waitress, and I like Katie, she’s a good kid.” Another shrug. “So I hit him. He must have had something in his pocket or hidden in his hand because it felt weird when he hit me back.”

“Felt weird how? And where did he hit you?”

She sounded like a cop again, and he wished he could take a moment to just smile about it.

Ross, oblivious to everything else at work, just turned around and pointed to a spot on his shoulder. “It kind of burned. And it was a weird place to hit someone.”

Audrey nodded. “This is going to sound strange, but would you mind taking your shirt off?”

Ross, despite his intimidating size and stone-cut features, was apparently an easygoing person, because he just shrugged again and pulled his shirt off.

Audrey bit her lip and nodded. “That’s what I thought. Thank you.” She looked at Nathan and Duke, “You really couldn’t see it?”

“All I saw were tattoos,” Duke said. “Nice ink, by the way.”

“Stop being nice to me,” Ross said. “I don’t want to like you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Thanks for telling us. I would avoid drawing for now, at least until we figure out what’s making troubles worse.”

The guy nodded. “So, does that mean they aren’t ending soon? Because I heard they were ending soon.”

“There’s been a hitch with that plan,” Dwight said. “But keep that quiet until we get it worked out.”

“You got it, boss. Can I go home now?”

Dwight stepped aside, allowing Ross out of the cell. He looked over the three of them. “I’m not really one of the bloodthirsty ones, but you all should watch your back; I’m in the minority.”

With that, he walked away, far calmer than most people would be after learning that not only could troubles be amplified, his had been.

Also staring at them, Dwight sighed. “You knew this was going on?”

“We’ve seen one other case,” Audrey said, rubbing at the mostly faded bruises on her neck.

“That’s not how this is supposed to work,” Dwight said. “Did destroying the barn make the troubles worse?”

“I don’t think so,” Audrey said. “Both the people we’ve encountered with amplified troubles had a handprint on them and mentioned feeling like someone had burned them.”

“I didn’t see a handprint,” Dwight pointed out. 

“Only I can see them. We think it might be a trouble, the ability to increase other people’s, but we don’t know who has it. Our other guy described two strange-looking men. Ross only mentioned one, so he’s probably our guy.”

Dwight nodded. “I’ll tell the guard to keep an eye out.”

“Tell them not to engage if they see him,” Nathan interrupted. “The last thing we need is more amplified troubles.” He imagined, briefly, what it would mean if Jordan’s trouble was kicked up a notch, or any of the many they’d seen and controlled in the past few months. It wasn’t a comfortable thought.

When they were alone in the holding area, Audrey sighed. “We have to find this guy. Ross got lucky that tiger didn’t eat his kid, and that was a relatively _good_ trouble. God only knows what this could be if it’s one of the really bad ones.”

“We don’t have time to worry about it,” Nathan said. “Three days, remember?”

“Nathan,” Audrey said, reaching for him, her expression etched with sadness. “We can’t just leave them to this. They need us.”

He felt something inside him breaking. It was so very _her_ , to be thinking of fixing the trouble of the day rather than what might save them. “You can’t give up.”

“I’m not,” She vowed, “But that doesn’t mean we can just disappear for three days while we look for ways out of this. We have to do both.” She looked up at Duke and Nathan caught the faint flush on her cheeks. Whatever double entendre was in that last sentence hadn’t been intentional, but now she was thinking about it.

Nathan watched Duke for a reaction, searching his face, but finding little information. He was lost in thought and possibly hadn’t even noticed what Audrey had said.

They climbed back up the stairs, heading for the door and stopping short.

The snowstorm which had paused itself for just long enough for them to rescue Lexie, take care of Audrey, and drive here, had come back with a vengeance, and if the view out the front door was any indication, visibility on the roads would be no more than a few feet.

Duke looked at it apathetically, apparently also accepting that they were trapped. “I hate this fucking town.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suffered a loss at the beginning of this week, and while this chapter was mostly written before it happened, the following chapters might not be the same quality as the proceeding chapters. Sorry about that. As always, I love to read your comments and they tend to be the best part of my week, so please leave them.

Could he not have just one fucking moment of peace? Did it always have to be dire? Did the world always have to be ending? Could he not just _leave_ and take a minute to think about things, to grieve what might have been?

No, of course not. The Crocker Curse was apparently threefold: super strength, killing troubles, and terrible fucking luck.

Duke resisted the urge to groan out loud. That would have only served to alert Audrey and Nathan to his mood and he was sure he couldn’t bear one more pitying look from either of them.

It wasn’t precisely that he didn’t believe that Audrey had assimilated Lexie into her personality. He had seen enough evidence to mostly believe it, and like she had said, it was far from the weirdest thing that had happened to them. No, it was the “we can all be together and be happy!” bit that he was stuck on. Were they really so naïve? He didn’t want their handouts, didn’t want them to let him into whatever they had because they felt obligated, because they—and really Nathan—had won.

Audrey was back, and he was happy—He was!—but Lexie, his Lex, was gone, and their _sure you can come along with our dramatic love affair_ attitude was not making him feel better.

 _This must be what Nathan felt like with Lexie,_ He thought, then hated himself for being charitable.

“I’m going to grab something to eat,” Audrey said, standing. She gave Nathan a look that probably meant something, but he didn’t want to interpret it, didn’t want to wonder what they weren’t saying aloud because he was here. That was what being in a relationship with them would be like, closed glances, conversations that existed only between the two of them. Sure, he wanted them—he had wanted Nathan for decades, and Audrey from the moment he’d met her—but that didn’t mean he could just forget Lexie, and it certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to exist in a relationship he was only a part of while they _allowed_ it. One day they would decide they wanted normal, and he’d be cut right out, the space he’d been in closed off.

The room was oppressively quiet when she was gone. Duke knew this silence; it was ‘Nathan is trying to say something important’ silence.

He started a countdown from five but realized that he’d given the guy too much credit and counted from fifteen.

“Duke, if it’s me… if that’s the problem, I get it. It doesn’t have to be us. It can be just you and her, and me and her. We don’t have to—” he stopped, shrugged. “I’d understand.”

Duke felt his jaw flex before he even realized how mad that made him. _How stupid and ignorant can one guy be?_ He didn’t want to fume though, didn’t want to fight. He just looked at Nathan, sighed, and said, “You’re so fucking stupid sometimes, Nate.”

He had time to see the hurt on Nathan’s face, had time to look away before he could feel guilty about it before Audrey walked back in holding a granola bar.

She looked between them. He wondered if she could smell the tension between them, or if was like the troubled handprints, a black, ugly thing that only she could see. “Is everything okay?” She asked quietly, looking between them.

Duke smiled, being sure to show all his teeth. “Everything’s perfect.”

Nathan, of course, didn’t say anything. He just sat there, looking stupid and hurt and sad.

Duke hated that. It was manipulation, pure and simple. Nathan shouldn’t get Duke’s pity, not when he had so clearly won. Not when Duke would be there, watching his and Audrey’s happiness—assuming they found something to back up Audrey’s theory, which Duke didn’t doubt—because he hated himself enough to accept that stab of pain he would always get when he looked at them. It was unfair that the girl he loved was with someone else, it was pure cosmic retribution that the girl he loved was with the boy that he’d loved his whole life.

It was always easier to blame the universe, when really he knew that some of this was his fault. He’d made mistakes, treated Nathan badly, treated flirting with Audrey like a joke, treated his relationship with Lexie like an obligation.

But he did not deserve this. He didn’t deserve to have them dangle the impossible in front of his face, to taunt him with the suggestion he would never have allowed himself to dream of. And he was not going to let Nathan act like _he_ was the reason it hadn’t already started. Since returning to Haven—a self-punishing act in itself—Duke had done a lot of things he knew would only hurt him in the end, but he had to draw the masochism line somewhere. And this, attempting a relationship with both Nathan and Audrey when neither of them really knew what they were getting into and it would ultimately all be ruined, this was that line. Losing one of them would be agony. Losing them both would be unendurable, and he would not do that to himself.

With that, he stood up, unable to continue sitting in this room with them as though everything was fine. They both looked up from whatever they were reading to stare at him.

“I’m leaving,” Duke said.

“Duke—”

“Shut up, Nathan. I have to get out of here.”

Audrey looked at him, moderately exasperated. “Duke, it’s snowing. You don’t have a car here. How exactly are you planning to get wherever you’re going?”

“Duke—”

“I don’t care,” He said, interrupting Nathan and not caring how stupid he sounded. “I’m not staying here.”

Audrey’s lips pressed together. “I’m going to go somewhere while the two of you work out whatever this is.”

“Audrey,” He turned his glare on her, but she easily brushed past him, ducking under his arm and out the door, which she snapped shut behind her. He heard a faint dragging sound, and went to the door, trying to push it open, but found that he couldn’t; she’d wedged a chair under the doorknob.

“She locked us in here,” He said, half in fury and half in admiration. Fury won out and he started pounding on the door. “Audrey! Open the goddamn door! Audrey!”

“No. You’re in there until you have a conversation like adults.” He heard the sound of her boots on the floor and knew she’d walked away.

Nathan was smiling, his real smile which you could only really see if you knew him well enough to look for it. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

God he hated that fucking smile. What the hell did Nathan have to smile about? Sure, Audrey was back and his life was perfect again, but he was still troubled, the world was still a nightmare, most of the town hated him. But of course none of that mattered to him; Nathan had Audrey and apparently that was all he goddamn needed.

And Duke was not jealous.

“Duke—”

“Shut up, Nathan! Just…” His voice broke and he hated himself for it. “Just shut up. I can’t take the gloating.”

“Gloating—Duke, I’m not—”

“Like hell you aren’t! I see the way you’re looking at her! She’s back! You won! And you can pretend all you want, but I know you don’t want me there, I know it won’t work, and I know in the end it’ll still be you. I can’t… I won’t… I won’t do it, Nate.”

“Duke…” He stood up, crossed the room and reached for Duke, who flinched away, not sure what he was trying to do, and unwilling to let himself find out.

If he let Nathan touch him now, he might never want him to stop.

“Don’t, Nate. Just don’t.” He sat heavily on the ancient couch.

Stubborn, stupid Nathan, who had a way of finding ways to hurt Duke completely unintentionally which were infinitely worse than the ways he’d intentionally hurt him, sat next to him.

Duke knew this meant that he really wanted to talk. Nathan was best at conversations which didn’t need to be face to face.

“My dad got this couch for Lucy,” He said. “He wasn’t much for records, but I spent some time at his cabin when I was hiding out and I found some old photos. There was a picture of her, sitting right here, smiling. The chief wrote “Lucy on her couch, 1983” underneath it.”

Duke looked at the ugly, moldy mustard-colored thing. It looked at least a decade older than that.

“I think he was in love with her,” Nathan continued, probably the most words he’d said to Duke at once in years. “That was… hard to think about. I know she wasn’t Audrey, I know I never met her, but it still feels very wrong to think that, technically, I guess, we were in love with the same woman.”

 _Is there a point to this?_ Duke wondered. It was tempting to ask, but that would shut Nathan up, and Duke found that he didn’t actually want to do that, even if it would have been easier than hearing him out.

“It wasn’t like that with you and Lexie.”

Duke snorted, no longer able to stay silent. “Really? Sure seemed like you hated it.”

“I didn’t want her to kill you, Duke.”

“Don’t act like this is about me. You were jealous—”

“For fuck’s sake, Duke, I’m trying.” He looked at Duke with enormous, pleading eyes. “Please, let me try.”

The silence was tense for a moment. Duke knew he could end this conversation. He knew all the ways to piss Nathan off—it was one of his many skills—and they would fight and this misery would end. Finally, he nodded. Let him try; he couldn’t change Duke’s mind. Nothing he could say would make any difference.   
“The only reason the plan was ever okay with me was because I knew you’d be there.”

That was not what Duke had expected Nathan to say.

“I wouldn’t just leave her alone. Even as Lexie, I didn’t… I didn’t want her to be alone. I knew you’d be there for her, and she would be okay, eventually. You’d… you’d be okay together.”

This might really be more than Duke could handle.

“It never bothered me, once I knew you loved Audrey too, that she wasn’t… that she wasn’t like I was.”

“That’s not fair,” Duke snapped. “I was never trying to—”

“Maybe not,” Nathan said, “but you did.” He sighed. “It’s just history, Duke. I got over it when you were gone.”

This was the most they’d ever spoken about their ill-fated… Duke hesitated to call it a relationship. He wasn’t sure what to call a situation where they made out with each other while drunk in high school one time, and then years later had seemed to be building towards something else before Duke had tried to hide business with pleasure, starting off a weird sort of feud. He wasn’t much of a dictionary reader, but he doubted there was a word for that.

“Anyway,” Nathan continued when it was clear Duke wasn’t planning on saying anything. “You love her, Duke. You said so. And you loved Lexie, or at least might have. That’s who she is now. Both of them.” He snorted a soft laugh. “I guess you have a head start on me, in that way; you already love both halves of her.”

Duke had to look away from Nathan’s soft, pleading eyes. It was too much. He would drown there and never find the surface.

“Don’t give up on her.” His voice was quiet and very low. If they weren’t sitting so close, Duke probably wouldn’t have been able to hear it. “It’s like I said before; I’ll stay out of it. We won’t have to be together.”

So he really thought that was what this was about. Duke was almost surprised. He’d thought his little speech earlier was martyrdom for Audrey’s benefit, but apparently Nathan really believed that he only wanted Audrey, and not both of them.

“That’s not what this is about,” Duke said. The words ground out of him like he was saying them against his will. Nathan had been more honest in the past five minutes than Duke thought he’d been since they were kids, it felt wrong not to at least try to be the same. “I lost you. I lost Audrey _to_ you. Losing you both, failing at this…I can’t, Nathan.”

Nathan had looked away, but now he turned back with a rueful smile on his face. “Thought you were supposed to be the brave one.”

* * *

The words had felt like an exorcism, each one ripped from him until he was raw and exhausted. Nathan vowed not to speak more than three words together for the next week, as if he could somehow even the balance, like going back to saying nothing would slowly erode the words he’d already said.

He didn’t regret it. He’d held most of that in for a long time, long enough that it had begun to fester, and now he was finally cleansed of all of it. If nothing else, at least now Duke knew.

But god, now Duke _knew._

Duke was supposed to be the brave one. Nathan had kept all that to himself because he was scared, and as it turned out, it was far scarier to have the words out. He looked at his hands and saw they were shaking. His heart was probably pounding. He wanted to feel sick, because he was sure he was sick and sweaty and cold, but he couldn’t feel any of it, so he just had to sit there in the endless silence that was rolling off of Duke.

He wished he could shove the words back in, chew and swallow them or let them stick in his throat and choke him because he would much rather be dead than right here. It was too bad his father was gone, because now would have been a damn good time for a hole to open up in the ground so he could fall into it.

All of this raced through is mind in the time it took Duke to respond, and even when he did, it wasn’t with words.

Duke stood up, moving away from the couch, away from Nathan, which hurt worse than words would have, Nathan thought.

“So that’s it?” Duke said. “Make a joke? I’m the one that supposed to do that, too, right?”

Nathan just nodded, not sure what to make of Duke’s tone. He sounded angry. Nathan should have expected that but…

“Goddamnit, Nathan, you think you can just make this all okay by saying it is, don’t you?”

“’M not—”

“And you know what, Nathan? I’m sick, _sick,_ of taking the scraps you throw me. I wanted Audrey. You knew that, I know you did, and you just barreled right in anyway. Decided I wasn’t good enough for her, had to save her. That’s always what it is with you, isn’t it? Gotta save Audrey. Well, even when she wasn’t Audrey, looks like you saved her from that too. Saved her from me—”   
“Duke—”

“Shut up, Nathan!” Nathan heard the way Duke’s breath pulled out of him in sharp rasps, saw the whites of his eyes in his fury, and found himself standing up, purely on instinct.

Duke was angry, so they were about to fight. This was how it always was. For once, though, he forced himself to keep his fists down. If Duke wanted to hit him, it was probably fair for Nathan to let him. It wasn’t like he could feel it anyway.

“I love her, and you’re going to stand here acting like you get to give me permission—”

“I’m not giving you permission, you idiot!”

“I’m an idiot? You, you fucking bastard! If you want to see an idiot find a fucking mirror!”

Nathan flinched away from him. Whatever rejection this was, at least it was familiar. They were back on ground Nathan understood from years of arguing with Duke, which was much easier than monologuing for five minutes and then sitting in silence.

“Yes, you are an idiot,” Nathan snapped. “Audrey gave us a way to… we could—” All those words, and now that it counted, they were sticking in his throat. _Us, you idiot!_ He wanted to scream, _It could be us! The three of us, like it should have always been._

Words were so much easier to think than to say.

Duke didn’t know what Nathan was thinking; life would be easier—but also more terrible—if he did. Nathan just stared at him, still failing to say what he wanted to say. He’d been trying so hard earlier, how had Duke misunderstood him so badly?

But that was typical, just like the anger and the brewing fight. He and Duke never seemed to function on the same wavelength, not in ways that counted. He stepped further into Duke’s space, still hopelessly trying to communicate what he was thinking, which mostly meant he was waving his hands.

Duke watched this with something like disdain on his face. “And what if that’s not what I want, Nathan?”

Nathan let his hands drop. “I don’t believe you,” He said.

Duke arched an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 _How could you not want this?_ Contrary to what most people believed, Nathan wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind. He’d seen the way Duke looked at Audrey. The two of them had something, and if the whole world hadn’t gone insane afterwards, he probably would have spent more time obsessing over what might have happened between them when they were in Colorado.

“I would think,” Nathan said slowly, “that you were lying.”

Duke glared. “Right. And why would I do that?”

“You said you were scared,” Nathan said. “You run when you’re scared.”

A muscle in Duke’s jaw flexed. Nathan knew this meant he was mad, but it was slightly distracting. It always had been, something that often pissed Nathan off when he and Duke were arguing, that even mad as hell Duke found a way to be distracting, to look good.

He had brought up another untouchable subject. The fight on the boat was one thing, but talking about Duke leaving Haven, talking about how he’d run, that was forbidden territory. It was so long ago, but the memory had to be as vivid for Duke as it was for Nathan. They had been close before that, Nathan had thought they’d always be close, that nothing could actually pull Duke Crocker out of his life. Not permanently, anyway.

“I’m not scared,” Duke said, voice low, practically a growl.

 _Prove it._ But it was Nathan’s turn to be scared. That was something Duke would say, and Nathan had never had his confidence. His eyes dropped away from Duke’s; he couldn’t hold it any longer.

Duke was closing into Nathan’s space, and the couple of inches difference in their heights were suddenly very apparent to Nathan.

But Nathan looked up and met his eyes, ready for a fight. “You were the one who said you were.”

“Maybe I’m just scared that you’ll kill me.” Duke gave Nathan’s forearm a significant look, but not one that really held any fear.

Guilt, hot and ugly, writhed inside Nathan. He should never have gotten that fucking tattoo. Should have dismissed the thought the second it occurred to him. Should have hated himself for even having the thought, which he now did. “I’m sorry,” He finally said. He knew now that the tattoo was the ultimate betrayal, the line he never should have crossed, one that—had the situation been reversed—Duke never would have crossed.

“Now you’re sorry?” Duke laughed bitterly. “Why’d you even get it?”

Nathan shrugged helplessly. “I was angry—”

“Angry. God, you’re so fucking stupid Nathan. That whole time you were sitting there while someone put that on you, you didn’t even once think ‘maybe now isn’t the time to make decisions?’ And now you’re sorry?”

“Yes,” He said. “I know it’s not worth much—”

“It’s not worth shit, Nathan!” Duke snapped, and Nathan thought he might have heard his voice crack, just a little. “Do you want me dead? Do you want to kill me?”

Nathan studied the ground, examining the familiar patterns on the scuffed linoleum instead of trying to meet Duke’s gaze. He didn’t think he could look at him and say this. “No. Never.”

The same muscle flexed again in Duke’s jaw, and Nathan’s eyes darted down towards the movement before returning to his eyes. He’d been here dozens of times before. One of them would throw the first punch, any progress they might have made would be out the window. He braced himself for the blow, knowing he deserved to have it hurt, and knowing that it wouldn’t.

* * *

Dwight had kindly offered to let Stan use his desk, because he and Audrey had both taken seats on Stan’s so that they could more easily stare at the door Audrey had barricaded. She should be embarrassed that the precinct—even the limited staff that was here in a snowstorm—were all here to witness her locking Nathan and Duke in a room in the hopes that they would finally _talk_ to each other, but she was beyond caring. She now had to live with double the impatience at the two of them, because Lexie had felt it almost as keenly as Audrey, and it was exhausting.

They would have to either work this out now, or she was going to scream, or kill one of them, or kill both of them, or find somewhere else to lock them in and leave them there for good.

“So,” Dwight said, “How long do you think it’ll take?” He held out a bag of popcorn to her and she took a handful before fixing her gaze back on the frosted glass door.

She chewed contemplatively for a moment. “Could be hours. They have decades of baggage to work through.”

“What even happened with them?” Dwight asked, sounding only mildly curious, like they were discussing a soap opera he had only recently begun watching.

Audrey sighed. “I feel like I only know half of it, but safe to say, a lot.”

He nodded and took another handful of popcorn. “How are you doing?” He asked after a moment of silence. “Sounds like you’ve had a lot to deal with.”

How was she doing? She’d barely had time to think about it. Finally, she shrugged. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

The nice thing about Dwight was his unflappable ability to take whatever you threw at him. He simply accepted her answer and didn’t push for more information.

“I missed Audrey,” He told her eventually. 

She smiled. “She missed you too.”

He looked at her, confused for a moment. “So you aren’t really her?”

“Like I told you,” She said, wondering how many times she would have to explain this, “I’m both. Sharing a head was too hard, so we combined.”

“I’m really glad I’m not you,” Dwight said tilting the popcorn towards her sympathetically.

Audrey laughed. “Me too; you couldn’t handle it.” She managed to snag a handful before he pulled the bag away in mock offense.

They went back to watching the door. “Awfully quiet in there,” Dwight pointed out.

Audrey stared at it as if she could somehow develop the ability to see through it if she only looked hard enough. She wanted them to be talking, but for all she knew they were sitting in obstinate silence, glaring at opposite walls.

The popcorn bag was almost empty when the yelling started. Audrey couldn’t make out what exactly was being said, but she could tell that Nathan and Duke were shouting at one another. That was almost promising; at least it wasn’t just one of them shouting at the other.

Or, more realistically, just Nathan shouting at Duke.

She jumped up when she heard a thud, like someone hitting furniture. _If one of those idiots broke my desk I’m dumping them both,_ she thought, glossing over the fact that they weren’t exactly together. She shouldn’t have expected this to be easy, but since waking up, it had seemed so obvious, the answer they hadn’t known they’d been looking for.

But now they were fighting, because of course they were, because they hadn’t done enough of that and there were still insults to be exchanged and punches to be thrown. She sighed, angry and disappointed.

 _I’m still not choosing. I’ll go back to Chris Brody. Or date Jordan just to spite them,_ She thought. That almost made her laugh, imagining their horror. It also reminded her that Jordan probably needed more help than she’d gotten. Not all troubles could be managed, but it had been petty of Audrey not to even try to help her.

Her head was starting to hurt. It felt like there were a million things the world needed from her, and she couldn’t keep track of them all. Deciding that she might as well use the time she had, she scrawled out a list of things she had to do.

  1. Prove that killing Nathan and/or Duke wouldn’t end the troubles or would kill everyone.
  2. Continue putting out metaphorical (and sometimes literal) fires related to the troubles
  3. Help Jordan and see if she could create some kind of truce with the Guard
  4. Figure out who was changing people’s troubles and stop them
  5. Save everyone



How hard could it be?

Glancing down at the paper, she had forgotten ‘Try to force Nathan and Duke to get along for more than an hour at a time, sometime when she wasn’t in imminent danger’, which seemed to be the only occasion that had the power to bring them together. Although, the time Audrey had been kidnapped, Nathan had had to beat up on Duke a little before they could start working together. Maybe if locking them in together didn’t work, she should engineer some kind of dire circumstance for them to rescue her from; it might be nice to hide out for a day while she waited.

The idea was almost funny, but she knew both of them too well. They would dedicate all their energy to ‘saving’ her and avoid talking to each other about anything important the entire time, like they had while Audrey and Lexie had been reconciling.

She glanced at the clock on Stan’s desk, and decided they’d had enough time. She hadn’t heard any more loud noises, and the popcorn was gone, so she might as well intervene.

“I’m going in,” She told Dwight. “Wish me luck.”

He offered her a small smile as she hopped off the desk and crossed the bullpen to un-wedge the chair and open the door.

Whatever she had been expecting to find when she stepped into the office, it was not the two of them kissing with Nathan pressed against her desk, though that at least explained the suspicious thud, even if she had wildly misinterpreted it.

She closed the door behind her quickly before anyone could see what she had seen. Her heart rate had picked up and she found herself staring at them, fascinated. This was far from the first time Audrey had imagined this, and even Lexie had pictured it once or twice, but actually seeing it was almost surreal.

They broke apart at the sound of the door, looking up. She expected surprise, maybe even guilt or embarrassment, but neither of them seemed to register her presence as a change.

“So… good talk?” She asked.

Duke smiled in a way that made her already racing heart skip. Nathan looked more relaxed that she’d ever seen him; whether or not he knew it, the guy carried more tension than a bridge cable.

They both exchanged glances, but neither of them said anything.

“Is anyone going to fill me in?” She arched one eyebrow, waiting.

Nathan shrugged.

“Duke?” She asked.

He mirrored Nathan’s gesture, but took pity on her. “There was a lot to talk about.”

“Which explains why you weren’t talking when I came in here.”

They exchanged another look, and—not for the first time—she wished that whatever secret, silent language they shared was one she could learn.

“Okay,” She said, feeling herself flush. “Maybe I should just leave you to it. Um, let me know if you want me—”

“Don’t go,” Duke said, reaching out and pulling her closer to them. “Sorry, I just don’t know how to explain it.” He looked at Nathan who only shrugged again.

“I guess you don’t have to,” Audrey said, but part of her was feeling a little left out. What could either of them have possibly said that led to that? “But are you in?” She searched Duke’s face for hesitance, or that stony stubbornness she’d seen earlier.

He shrugged. “You know me, always up for anything.” 

She hated that it sounded too much like he was lying or worse, joking. She could picture Duke, carefully failing to reveal that he cared, unintentionally convincing Nathan that this was all just an elaborate prank. It would all fall apart from there, and she recoiled from the thought. 

“What… what changed your mind?” She asked cautiously, not really expecting an answer from him, but hoping he might say something sincere.

Nathan’s mouth quirked up. “Duke’s got commitment issues.”

“The guy who takes half a year to ask a girl out can’t throw stones,” Duke said, but he was smiling too. If she looked closely, Audrey could see the strain on his face, but she let it drop, too tired for now to fight this battle.

So, when Nathan opened his mouth to protest, Audrey cut him off with a laugh. “He’s got you there.” If her laugh sounded forced and unnatural, hopefully they could blame the fact that she was trying to blend those of two different people.

Nathan looked between them. “So, this is how it’s going to be? Both of you ganging up on me?”

Duke looked at Audrey, raising one eyebrow suggestively. “I like the sound of that.” 

“We’ll have to be careful though,” Audrey said, easily continuing the double meaning. “He’s _sensitive.”_

Nathan shuddered visibly and she and Duke exchanged glances. This was good. It felt normal. It might take them some time to find real footing, but here was a start. She wanted to believe it would all be good and easy, that Duke would relax, stop hiding, and when they were joking and starting to hint towards something even more fun, it seemed like something they could really do.

Well, they could do it if they weren’t currently in her office at work, which was very possibly the least sexy location ever.

She glanced out the window, watching as the snow continued to fall thick and fast. They were going to be here for a while.

Reaching out, she took Nathan’s hand, feeling the way his fingers twitched around hers at the contact. She leaned over so that her shoulder was resting against Duke’s. “I think we should all talk about this. It’s… it’s going to be different and it’s going to take figuring out, and I know I’m still learning things about myself; that could get weird for all of us.”

“We should also strategize,” Duke pointed out, and Audrey didn’t miss the change of topic. “The guard is not going to like your plan; we need to be prepared for backlash.”

Audrey nodded. “We also need better ways of dealing with the troubles as they come. We can’t just wait until one of them is a crime we can investigate.”

“What, like some kind of tip line?” Nathan asked.

“That could work,” Audrey said. “People could call us when they need help.” She pulled out her list and added “Tip line?” to it.

Duke leaned over her shoulder to read it, which she found set her teeth on edge, a pet peeve she hadn’t even realized she gotten from Lexie.

“’Save everyone’?” He read aloud. “Kind of a lot of pressure, there, don’t you think?”

Audrey shrugged. “They’ll never leave us alone if we don’t.”

Nathan reached over and pulled the list out of her hands, scanning it for himself. “And this person changing troubles… something just feels wrong about it.”

“I don’t want to know what my trouble would look like supercharged,” Duke admitted, and Nathan nodded, either agreeing with Duke or thinking the same about his own trouble.

Audrey fiddled with her hair, twining it around her finger. When she’d first written out her list it hadn’t seemed like so many things to do. Now, looking at it with both of them, each task seemed to include so many things. With all this to do, she should have been allowed to get started, but of course Haven had other ideas, damning her to a few hours trapped in the police station.

“This goddamn storm,” She muttered, staring at it as if her glare alone could stop the snow.

Duke put a hand on her shoulder, heavy and warm. “It’ll stop eventually,” He said, as if less than an hour ago, he hadn’t been the one trying to get away.

“There’s just so much to do,” She whispered.

“But we don’t have a deadline anymore,” Nathan said, either forgetting or ignoring the fact that they had three days to save his and Duke’s lives. When they both glared at him, he amended. “You’re not going anywhere anymore. We beat that. We’ll figure out how to beat the rest of it.” Very hesitantly, he added, “Together.”

Which reminded her of another conversation that she and Nathan would need to have sometime soon, another thing to add to the list, along with what would probably be a very difficult conversation with Duke.

Unaware of her thoughts, Duke nodded and put his hand on Nathan’s back. Audrey wasn’t even sure he noticed, but the visual was nice for her, at least, comforting. “Let’s split up the list.”

They sat on the floor and started debating various ways of divvying up the tasks Audrey had set for herself, debating the merits of each one. After an hour or so, they hadn’t reached any decisions, but things were starting to feel _possible_ in a way they hadn’t since Audrey had found out about the Hunter meteor storm.

It was nice—safe, almost and calm, at least—up until the power went out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had to get split into two; I'm very sorry about the weird cutoff. As I said in the last update, I'm dealing with some stuff right now, I hope it's not reflected too much in my work, but please be kind if it is. As always, I love to hear thoughts, comments, things you liked, and wordless screaming, so feel free to tell me what you think.

Audrey’s list was so straightforward Nathan was almost fooled into thinking it would be simple. Having reconciled with Duke, just about everything seemed possible, and Nathan felt like nothing on earth could slow him down, much less stop him.

Audrey was sitting at her desk again.

If they succeeded with their list, he would never have to look over and see that empty seat again, not without knowing that she would eventually be back to fill it.

He looked up from one of his father’s old case files, a woman who had attacked several men—one of them an HPD officer—with a pain trouble.

“Good for her,” Audrey had said, and Nathan was inclined to agree. Somewhere in one—or all—of these men’s backgrounds, there was probably an unreported assault which had caused the trouble. It was too similar to Jordan’s case to be ignored, which was helpful, but frustrating at the same time. It didn’t give them any new information which might help Audrey when she confronted Jordan.

Nathan knew he should feel guilty when he thought of her, and part of him did. He had promised her that he would suffer but given what had happened with Audrey and now Duke, he wasn’t sure he ever would again. However bad things got, he had them.

He looked up to stare at Audrey again and she caught him, looking away quickly. She didn’t smile.

Given more time, he would have examined that, but the lights flicked off before he had a chance.

At first, he assumed it was Duke dicking around. Darkness was one thing when you could feel around and fumble for a light. For Nathan, it was debilitating, something Duke had realized and used for several unfunny pranks when they were children.

Before he had a chance to call Duke out, Audrey groaned. “Storm must have taken out the power. Any chance this place has a generator?”

Duke messing with him would have been a better option, Nathan realized. “It does have one,” He said, hoping his lack of confidence came through in his tone.

Audrey frowned. “That bad?”

He nodded. The station’s backup generator was probably older than Nathan himself, and he had memories from childhood of his father coming home griping about it while he stomped snow off his boots. If they were counting on that thing, they were pretty well screwed.

They stood up to go outside and hear what the discussion was. Nathan moved carefully, counting more on his memory and his familiarity with this space than his eyes in the weak light. Halfway through the slow walk, Duke grabbed his arm and pulled him around the corner of the couch and out the door.

Dwight, Stan, and Rafferty were already outside, staring at the dark ceiling with mild irritation. If he’d been able to choose a group of people to be stuck here during a snowstorm with, it would be exactly these five, but Nathan still wasn’t thrilled with this.

“I could go out and take a look,” Dwight said. “Might be able to get the generator going.”

Stan shook his head. “No use, boss. Thing hasn’t worked right in decades and in this cold? Forget it.”

“The generator doesn’t work when it gets cold?” Audrey asked skeptically, “Then what’s the point?”

“The old chief was getting after Mayor Brody about getting a new one, but then we saw a spike in… well everything, and now they’re both—” Rafferty stopped, glancing awkwardly at Nathan.

He just nodded. “Dead.” He realized he probably should have taken up the issue with the selectmen when he had been chief, but there hadn’t been much time. Mayor Brody had died shortly after the chief and there’d been troubles to worry about, and the Rev, and then Audrey and the barn.

And now, here they were, in the dark, in a building that was rapidly getting colder, as they all realized that just because they had to deal with troubles didn’t mean they were allowed to ignore the day to day things.

“So, what can we burn?” Duke asked, picking a tchotchke off of the nearest desk and tossing it idly between his hands.

“Wow, you went from zero to ‘burn down the police station’ really fast,” Rafferty said, stepping past Duke and delicately plucking the thing away from him.

Duke shrugged. “Generator doesn’t work. How else are you expecting to get warm?”

“I was suggesting that we fix the generator,” Dwight reminded him.

Nathan crossed the room and looked out a window. “It’s buried under a foot of snow.”

Dwight grimaced, glancing around the room.

“There are probably some blankets and extra clothes in evidence and the lost and found, we can pull those out, use them to stop drafts and for extra layers,” Nathan said. He’d gone through an extreme survival phase as a kid, and still remembered some of the facts he’d obsessively studied under his covers at night with a flashlight. “It’ll keep us for a while.”

None of them asked what they would do when that stopped working. Suffocating on smoke from a fire they started to keep warm wasn’t unheard of—Nathan had too many horror stories of people his father had found come spring—but slowly freezing to death hardly seemed more palatable.

“Too bad this place doesn’t have a fireplace,” Stan said amicably, looking around the room as if there might be one he hadn’t noticed tucked in a corner somewhere.

“Too bad,” Audrey agreed, and Nathan could tell she was barely restraining an eyeroll. It was not something Audrey would have done, but it made sense for Lexie. Hours later, he was beginning to notice the changes, that Audrey fidgeted with her hair the way Lexie had, that she was a little less reserved. She laughed louder; her expressions were larger. By the time the barn had come, Audrey had seemed so tired, weighed down by what they’d seen and done. Lexie hadn’t gotten there yet, so perhaps the combination had met somewhere in the middle.

He almost envied her a little, wishing he could erase some of this mental ache, though he wasn’t sure how she could be so calm about everything else.

Maybe she was panicking inside, searching herself for something familiar, but with the list, the blizzard, the power outage, she was keeping it all away from them to deal with later. Nathan hoped she wasn’t, hoped she would let them in eventually if she was.

Them. Funny how naturally the plural came to him. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might choose to talk just to him or just to Duke like she had, alternating between each of them at various points and with various stresses. He wondered if, now that it was all of them, she would simply tell both of them everything at once, or if she might still need to let things out one on one.

He vowed to try very hard not to be jealous again, the way he had been when she’d gone to Duke more often than him when they’d finally figured out the Hunter, the Barn, everything.

“Nathan and I will excavate the evidence lockup,” Audrey said, apparently concluding a discussion of which Nathan had not be a part. “See what you can find in here.”

Despite Dwight being technically in charge, no one hesitated to follow Audrey’s orders, though he caught a confused glance from Duke.

The door was barely shut behind them when Audrey turned to him. “Nathan, we need to talk.”

“Shouldn’t Duke—”

“No. Just us.”

Shit.

She sighed. “You should have let me go into the barn—”

“What? No—”

“Nathan,” She snapped. “Stop.” Another sigh, like she was trying to carry something heavy up a very long road. “Just let me say this. You should have let me go. It was my choice, and if I could, I would make it again. This, what happened, we got _lucky_ , Nathan.”

He was starting to see what Jordan had meant about him saying her name. He certainly didn’t like it when Audrey employed the same tactic.

“And we’re lucky that it’s only seventeen dead so far. It could have been three times that, it could have been hundreds. And they would be my fault too—”

“No, Audrey—”

“It would be my fault, Nathan, because I should have just gone. Because all along, that was my real job here. My purpose. I go into the barn. I stop the troubles for twenty-seven years. You took that from me.”

“But—”

She silenced him with a glare that somehow spoke more of sadness than anger. “Never again, Nathan. If you ignore what I want—what I choose—like that again, we’re done.”

Her words hit him like being stabbed in the chest, the closest thing to pain he could feel. They were so final, so sure. He couldn’t even muster up a response, instead he looked away to start gathering supplies. Focus on a task, on something to do. That would make this better, that would slow the spin of emotions he didn’t know how to name. That would quell the misery of considering losing her. Maybe that would be his fate, to have her, but to always lose her just when things started to seem okay because he made some stupid choice in a desperate moment. 

“Nathan…”

“I understand,” He said, his voice rougher than he’d wanted it to be. He did, somewhat. He understood what she’d said, and understood why she’d said it.

The moments before he’d shot Howard were a brightly colored blur in his memory. He didn’t remember what his thought process had been and doubted there had been one. He’d had plenty of time to think about and regret his actions—six months without both of them and then weeks where she was Lexie—and he could admit that he should have thought things through.

But never, in all that reflection, had he regretted trying to make her stay.

_That was my purpose here._ He refused to believe that her purpose was to leave, that after everything she’d given for them, it was only about going into that damn barn.

When they returned to the bullpen, Duke raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Nathan,” Audrey said, reaching up to trace his jaw with her hand. “You aren’t the only one who can give your life for this place.”

Duke had said something similar when he’d first started falling for Lexie, when Nathan had tried to stop him. “Can it be no one?” He asked.

She let out a frustrated, affectionate groan and flicked him between the eyes. “You’re impossible.”

They finished gathering everything in silence, returning to the bullpen with arms full of blankets, curtains, and old clothes that could be worn or used for insulation. All the while, Nathan’s thoughts spun, playing and replaying everything Audrey had said. He wanted to hate that she was right, wanted to rage that after everything she would still go into the barn. But he’d been angry for so long, and he was tired, and Audrey was right.

At Duke’s curious look when they returned, he just sighed. “I should get a dog.”

* * *

Whatever Audrey had said to Nathan must have really put the fear of god into him, which—though he knew it was petty and immature and many other things—was a little funny to Duke.

The dog comment was strange, but far from the strangest thing Nathan had ever said to him.

Hell, Duke even kind of agreed with him. God knew the guy needed something to put his energy and attention on, and the new Audrey—who seemed to have inherited Lexie’s dislike of being coddled and protected—must have refused to be it.

Duke wouldn’t have hated having Nathan’s attention but whatever Audrey had said to him, or however she’d said it must have convinced him that it shouldn’t go towards something that could talk. Which was, frankly, hilarious.

He started digging through the pile of blankets and coats they’d dragged up from the basement. “None of these are covered in blood or used to be wrapped around a dead body, right?”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “No, most of them are lost and found, a couple were probably pulled out of seized cars, that kind of thing.”

Continuing his aimless search, he stopped when he touched a blanket that made his hand feel strange, like the thick, soft wool was conducting a dull electric charge.

He pulled it out, spreading it across the floor to see it better. It was dark green, ash gray, and a strange bright blue, like twilight on snow. Looking at it made him shiver, and he wondered if he would be able to sneak it home with him after they got out of here. This belonged on the _Rouge._

The others crowded around him, aside from Audrey, who was busy donning the ugliest jacket he’d ever seen.

“What is it?” Dwight asked, reaching out to touch it slowly, as if it were an animal that might come to life when he stroked it.

Rebecca’s eyes were shining with fascination while she studied it. “It’s loom-woven, a century old or older, even. Probably a blanket or tapestry.”

They all paused in their admiration to stare at her. She shrugged, not even taking her eyes off of it. “What? I have hobbies.”

Nathan grabbed it first. “I’ll use this one.”

Dwight grabbed another fistful, the opposite corner from Nathan. “Why? You can’t even feel the cold. I’ll use it.”

Duke’s jaw set. “I found it!”

“What, finders’ keepers?” Nathan snapped. “This isn’t third grade.”

“Stop, you’ll tear it!” Rebecca said, voice pitched high with alarm. “I’ll take it; I’m the only one who knows how to take proper care of it.”

“I want it too!” Stan demanded, but no one paid any attention to him.

Audrey stared at them. “What the hell? Guys, there’s plenty of blankets.”

“Not like this one,” Nathan growled.

She tilted her head, staring at it. Looking at her, Duke calmed just enough to notice that he was feeling an awful lot of bloodlust over a goddamn blanket.

It occurred to Duke, after that realization, that he’d never cared about a blanket before, let alone that he’d never cared _this much_ about a blanket.

“It’s a piece of art!” Rebecca was snarling at Dwight, trying to gather as much of the blanket into her arms as she could.

“It’s evidence! It belongs to me,” Dwight was calmer, but Duke suspected that was just because he was always calm. His eyes were bright and vicious as he tried to get the blanket back from Rebecca, knocking Stan on his ass in the process. 

Duke looked back at the blanket and couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking about, only that he had dropped his corner during the distraction. Too busy fighting with each other, Dwight and Rebecca hadn’t noticed that Nathan had more than half the blanket in his hands, which struck Duke as deeply unfair; Dwight was right, Nathan couldn’t feel the blanket so he shouldn’t be allowed to have it. Duke shouldn’t have to share _everything_ with Nathan. Share the new Audrey, maybe, not that he really believed that could work out, but not this. He’d been the one to find the blanket in the pile, and therefore it should be his to keep.

Audrey tugged on his arm, pulling him away, forcing him to look at her. “Duke, this is a trouble.”

“What?” He couldn’t believe her. Not everything was a trouble, and this certainly wasn’t. Troubles were always bad, awful things. This blanket was beautiful, easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever looked at and by right, it was his.

“Duke!” Audrey snapped in front of his face, once again pulling his attention away from the blanket. “Think about this; it’s a blanket. You don’t care about it.”

She was blocking his view, and when he looked, he saw that Nathan was holding most of it while Rebecca scratched uselessly at his back, trying to get around him so she could take it. Of course Audrey would distract him so that Nathan could have it. Of course she didn’t understand why he wanted it, didn’t think _he_ deserved to have it. That was probably what this stupid relationship idea was about too.

He shoved Audrey aside so he could get to Nathan, who looked up when Audrey hit the ground. For a moment, the fevered fury in Nathan’s gaze cooled as he stared at her, confused. Duke instinctively looked with him and realized that he’d knocked Audrey down. He felt bad; he hadn’t wanted to do that.

Dwight pulled the rest of the blanket free from Nathan and held it over his head victoriously before running into his office and locking the door.

As soon as they were no longer looking at it, Nathan, Rebecca, and Stan relaxed. Slowly, they all sank to the ground where they were standing, exhausted from the shear intensity of the past few minutes. Had it really only been a few minutes? Duke felt like he’d been fighting about that blanket for years, like it was the real cause between all of his tension with Nathan.

“Woah,” Stan said.

“What the hell was that?” Rebecca asked, rubbing her head.

Audrey sighed. “A trouble.” She glared at Duke.

He realized why Audrey was already sitting and his stomach dropped. “Audrey, I’m sor—”

“I know. It’s okay. That was... something.” She rubbed her hip where she’d fallen on it, grimacing. 

“What kind of trouble does that?” Nathan asked, glancing at Dwight’s office door.

“And whose?” Duke asked, glancing between Stan and Rebecca.

They both looked at each other, and said, nearly at the same time, “It’s not me!”

Rebecca turned on Duke and Audrey, “It could be one of you!”

Both of them exchanged moderately guilty looks. Audrey spoke first. “Duke is already troubled and I’m immune.” No one accused Nathan; everyone already knew what his trouble was.

“Immune?” Stan asked. “Is that why you didn’t want the blanket?”

“It’s not a blanket,” Rebecca said, exasperated. “With decoration like that, it would have been a wall hanging and a beloved family heirloom.”

Duke looked at Audrey and Nathan. “So, it’s her trouble then.”

They both nodded.

Audrey reached out, placing a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “I know this is hard to understand—”

“I’m not troubled,” Rebecca interrupted.

“This can be really hard to accept,” Audrey reattempted, “But—”

“No, really. I’m from Connecticut, moved here when I got married, stayed when my ex left. Not troubled.”

“What if it’s like the other ones?” Nathan leaned in towards Duke and Audrey, and Duke had to lean in to hear him. “It changed somehow and now it spread?”

Audrey shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s something off about this.”

“Dwight just almost killed Stan over a blanket—”   
“Tapestry!” Rebecca snapped.

Duke sighed, but obligingly rephrased. “Over a _tapestry._ Please name something about this that isn’t off.”

Apparently used to his sarcasm, Audrey ignored him and kept her attention on Rebecca. “Were you feeling stressed or worried? Or maybe angry about something?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I’m serious; I’m not troubled.”

“Any kind of emotional turmoil?” She tried.

More head shaking.

Audrey looked a little hopelessly at Stan. “Were you?”

“Nope.”

“It’s not them,” Nathan said, finally admitting the obvious.

“So, what? The blanket is troubled? Or did Dwight sprout a new one?” Duke asked, frustrated.

“That’s a theory,” Audrey said, frowning.

Duke stared skeptically at her. “People are getting second troubles?”

Audrey gave him a look that made him feel both very stupid and even more confused. “No, the blanket is troubled.”

“We’ve seen troubled objects before,” Nathan mentioned. “Maybe the blanket is like the puzzle board.”

“Not a bad theory,” Audrey said. “Duke, come with me; I want to go look where I found it and see if there’s anything else there.”

Duke had time to catch Nathan’s hurt look before he stood and joined her as she went back to the evidence locker.

When they were alone, he grabbed her shoulder, pulling her to face him. “What?”

She tilted her head, eyes so wide and innocent that it had to be fake. “What do you mean?”

“You got your minute alone with Nathan; now it’s my turn. What?”

She flushed and couldn’t quite meet his eyes, glancing over as though she might find something to say written on the sides of one of the evidence boxes. “I just… I realize how fast this all probably feels for you. I wanted to check in.”

“Fast?”

“This morning I was a different person. A different person you were dating.”

He glanced at his watch. “That was yesterday, actually.”

“Duke.”

Apparently smartassery was not going to fly. “Look, yes, this is a lot. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No.” She put her hands on her hips and the anger looked so much like Lexie’s had earlier that he had to look away. “All I want is for you to be honest. I can’t live with this if you’re looking at me thinking I killed Lexie. Especially when I _am_ Lexie.”

“But you aren’t!” he finally snapped. “She wasn’t you, and you’re—”

“She wasn’t Audrey,” Audrey corrected. “But guess what, Duke? Neither am I. And okay, fine, I’m not Lexie. Look, if you don’t want this, just fucking say so. Don’t do the tortured martyr act.”

He glowered at the ground. “It’s not an act.”

“That makes it worse. Duke, this all falls apart without you, but it’ll fall harder if you’re only half in. I know things with you and Nathan are complicated, I know I’m not exactly who you thought you wanted. I just… don’t pretend. Please, don’t pretend if you don’t want this.”

He stared at her, sure that his heart was in his eyes, hating the naked vulnerability and wondering if it would be better to take his chances in the snow than with her. “That’s the problem. I do want this. More than anything.”

* * *

Her heart was falling to pieces. It was watching him die on the street, backing away in Colorado, leaving him behind at the barn all rolled into one, all buried under that horrible hope.

If he was saying something so good, why did he look so sad?

“I love you,” He said, voice soft, eyes even softer. “I love you, whoever you are, and I’ve loved him… fuck, I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve known that was something a person could do. But I can’t, Audrey. Earlier, with Nathan, it was just… it was bad judgement. We were fighting and I wanted to. Thought it would shut him up. Thought he’d push me away or hit me.”

“But he didn’t,” Audrey said, carefully keeping her voice as quiet as his. “I saw how he reacted—”

“That was this time. What about next time? We’ll fight again, Audrey; we always do. And I’ll keep coming back. It’s like a punishment for all those times in school when I did stupid shit to him and he kept coming back. Now, he does all this to me, and I just keep coming back.”

She raised one eyebrow. “I know you’re big on the whole destiny thing—” She held up a hand before he could argue. “But you know you both have a choice, right? This time, you chose not to fight. Next time, you’ll do the same. I’ll help.” She reached for him, reaching up to rest her hand on his shoulder.

“He has to choose too,” Duke said. “And he won’t. I know—”

“You don’t know that,” She said quietly. “When you died on the day that repeated, he was… Please trust me when I say that losing you changed him. I couldn’t see it as Lexie, but I see it now.” 

“Is that the box?” He asked, his voice thick and strange. “Where you found the blanket?”

Audrey almost sobbed. She hated crying, something Lexie and Audrey had had in common. All she wanted was to hold this in until she could be alone with a bottle of something strong. “Yes.”

He looked at her, and she kept her eyes on the box as if that would keep him from seeing the pain on her face. Bending down, she reached for it, but he stopped her, one large, warm hand covering hers.

She couldn’t avoid looking at him then, but that didn’t mean she had anything to say; he had every right to choose not to do this. _But you want to!_ She wanted to scream. _You said you wanted to do this, so why aren’t you?_

“Audrey…”

“He believed you, you know,” She said, knowing her words would cut deep and caring less than she probably should. “When you kissed him, he thought that was you saying yes, and he believed it. I know you’re scared, and you can say no, but you have to tell him that you didn’t mean it earlier.”

Duke flinched. “That’ll start a fight.” He was so sure and so resigned to it.

She shrugged. “Maybe.” She met his eyes again, suddenly hyperaware of his hand on hers. Lexie, she remembered, had really liked his hands. Audrey had too, for that matter but she couldn’t think about it now. She picked up the box and turned away.

“He won’t give me another chance,” Duke said. “If I tell him about earlier, he’ll never…”

She looked back at him, staring directly into his eyes. “Then I hope you’re sure.”

With that, she took the box and headed back towards the bullpen, leaving him with his thoughts.

The truth was—and she wasn’t sure if it was the intuition that had always driven her when she was fighting the troubles or her own desperate wishful thinking—she didn’t think he was sure. She thought he was scared and trying to run away. Nathan said that Duke ran away when things got hard, but Audrey knew that he also came back. He was, unfortunately, probably right that Nathan wouldn’t let him come back if he ran away from this, so she hoped he would decide to stop running now, before it was too late.

Audrey was half Lexie now, and Nathan was on thin ice, as she’d told him earlier. They needed Duke; they needed his steady caution, his ‘think before we act’ calm, his sense of humor. Without him, Audrey believed they would implode—probably spectacularly—for one reason or another.

She didn’t know how to say that. This must be what they, especially Nathan, felt like all the time, the weight of unsaid words pressing on her chest and making her breaths come quick and uneven.

Duke caught up with her easily—it was hard to storm away from someone with legs as long as most of her body—and she thought he might grab her arm or stop her, but he didn’t. He just walked behind her the rest of the way back to where Nathan, Rafferty, and Stan were just finishing insulating the bullpen.

The only door that didn’t have a blanket stuffed underneath it was Dwight’s, and they were all staring at it with various unsure looks.

“Just leave him for now,” Audrey said. “We’ll see what we can do once we know what we’re dealing with.”

She went back to the center of the room and upended the box. Photos, books, loose papers, and various knickknacks tumbled out and scattered as everyone gathered around her.

Nathan picked up one of the books. “This is my dad’s handwriting.”

Audrey was busy fixating on one of the papers, a note. “This is mine.”

He set the book down, turning to her, waiting. Duke didn’t say anything, but she could feel his gaze on her back, just as expectant.

She cleared her throat, stalling before she read aloud.

_Dear Garland,_

_I’m sure you’ll find this after I’ve left. Please take this as the goodbye I didn’t manage to say. I think after I’m gone the blanket will be normal again but keep it safe in case the troubles come back. I tried to run away and avoid all this, but after James… I have to go. I hope you can enjoy your peaceful little town while I’m gone. Take care of it._

_Love,_

_Lucy_

The air was still and silent. Audrey swore that even the dust in the air froze while she looked at her own slanting handwriting on this page.

“Who’s Lucy?” Stan asked.

No one bothered to try and answer his question. Nathan was staring at the paper in her hands with suspiciously bright eyes, and Audrey’s hands were shaking. She had written this. Decades ago, when she was Lucy, she had held this same piece of paper and said goodbye to Garland Wuornos, knowing she would never see him as herself again.

And twenty-seven years later, Audrey Parker had arrived on a beach to look at a body, and Garland hadn’t even blinked.

She set it down, her eyes misting, an intense longing to have known this woman—this woman who was her—all those years ago. She wished that Lucy had been in her head enough that she could have sat at a table with her too. What traits would she have offered? Would she have been more like Audrey or more like Lexie?

“Audrey?” Nathan said. “Did you hear me?”

She looked up, startled. “Sorry, no. What?”

“There’s an entry in here about the blanket.” He handed her the journal folded open to a page with a very old newspaper clipping.

Audrey read the journal first. “Cursed blanket believed to have belonged to Forgiveness Brodrin. May have had a trouble that made people obsessed with her.”

She glanced at the clipping next, it was from the fifties, and likely one of Dave’s first, based on the date. “’Haven’s Weaving Witch: Forgiveness Brodrin.’ That’s ominous.”

Duke was leaning over her shoulder, and she moved, holding out the article so he could just read it. “Brodrin was said to be the town’s best weaver, a skill which likely made her very popular among local men. Rather than choosing one for her to marry, her father locked her in his home, refusing to let her out, condemning her to do nothing but weave until she died at an unknown age.”

Another clipping, this one from nineteen eighty-three, when Lucy would have just arrived in Haven. Duke took it from her and read again. “’Witch’s Blanket to Go to Auction.’ Imagine what auctioning that blanket would look like.”

“It could have been a bloodbath.” Audrey said. “Everyone fighting to own it. Maybe Lucy stole it to stop the auction, and kept it hidden until she was leaving.”

“So, what does this have to do with the witch lady?” Stan asked, and Audrey was really trying to be patient, but sometimes she just wanted to be allowed to do what she was best at. 

“A trouble that makes people obsessive,” She said, wheels slowly turning in her head. “It made people want to own _her_. Men wanted to marry her; her father wanted to keep her at home. She was a weaver…”

“What are you saying?”

“She was locked in her room,” Audrey said. “All day, every day, maybe for years—”

“Something like that blanket would have taken a while to make,” Rafferty pointed out. “It’s long, patient work.”

“Exactly,” Audrey said. “All she would have been thinking about was her trouble, how much she hated it.”

“You think she… wove her trouble into the blanket?” Nathan stared at her, and then looked down at his hands. She wondered if he was thinking of his own hobbies, abandoned while he dealt with troubles.

“Could that get rid of a trouble?” Duke asked, also staring at his hands.

“I don’t know,” She answered honestly. “After everything, I’m starting to think we know less about the troubles than we thought we did.”

“My dad knew,” Nathan said, very quietly as he looked at the journal on his lap. “He… he was trying to save Lucy.”

Stan and Rafferty were staring between them. Audrey wasn’t sure how much they’d known or wanted to know about the troubles before this, but clearly they were in it now.

“You’re very used to this, aren’t you?” Rafferty said, looking a little nauseous.

Audrey nodded. “You’re not?”

Rafferty shrugged and looked at Stan. “We hear things. We know they happen. Sometimes we see things, but then it goes away. Things go back to normal for a day, a week. It’s easy to pretend.”

“Not so much when you’re looking at it,” Stan said, reaching towards a photo that showed a blurry human form, moving too fast for the camera to properly catch, before he took his hand back as if touching it would give him a trouble.

“Sorry,” Audrey said, without much sympathy. The town was getting past the point of ignorance; at some point they would have to realize this wasn’t normal.

Rafferty shrugged again. “It’s not so bad. Sometimes not knowing if it’s real or not makes me feel crazy.”

“It’s real,” Duke assured her, but Rafferty didn’t look at him.

“So, what are we going to do about the chief?” She asked after a moment, glancing at Dwight’s still closed office door.

“I’m going to go talk him down,” Audrey said. “And then I’m going to take the blanket and destroy it.”

The others began to protest but stopped themselves. Without the blanket in the room, its effects were obviously diminished, but they still didn’t want it destroyed.

“It’s a historical artifact,” Rafferty said. “And a piece of Haven’s history.”

Duke raised an eyebrow at her. “It has too much Haven in it. It’s troubled.”

“And it’s dangerous,” Nathan said, and Audrey smiled at the way they finished each other’s sentences. It was nice, but it gave her a pang. Everything was good while they were solving troubles, but eventually it would end, and Duke would avoid them, or he and Nathan would fight.

But then, she supposed, there would be another trouble, and Duke would be back at their side. It would be enough, for the time being, if that was all they got, even if part of her was thinking about more the whole time.

She stood up. “No time like the present.”

Duke pressed a lighter into her hands. “Be careful.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Nathan offered.

She glared at him. “I can handle this.”

Ten minutes later, she realized that, actually, she couldn’t handle this, but that didn’t mean she wanted Nathan to swoop in and help her. Dwight was massive, and though he’d never been anything but friendly, the blanket was in his head. He caught sight of the lighter and went insane trying to keep her away from it.

She smashed into the table on the other side of the office, accidentally crushing one of the popsicle stick lamps Nathan had made for the chief. Shaking it off, she made a mental note to apologize and went back to the task at hand.

“Dwight, it’s okay. I’m not trying to take it from you. I just wanted to admire it with you.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he nodded as if that made sense to him. The blanket was spread out over the desk, and when she’d come in, he’d been sitting there staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe.

Carefully, he shifted a little to the side, and she kept the lighter hidden in her hand, ready to flick it on when she got the chance. Another step. One more.

She was so close. Soon she would be able to touch it, and all she would need was another second to set it on fire, hopefully ending the whole thing.

The door flung open, destroying the cautious peace she’d made with Dwight as Nathan and Duke fell into the office.

If she were being charitable, she would recognize that they had probably heard the crash and were alarmed, that they were only doing it to try and help her.

But they weren’t immune.

As soon as they saw the blanket, it became an all-out brawl between Duke, Nathan, and Dwight. She couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but she caught fragments of threats and more male posturing than she ever wanted to witness.

One long arm—Nathan or Duke, in the tight space she could barely tell the difference—knocked the lighter out of her hand, and she was confident the plan had officially gone down the drain. She had worked in enough bars—or rather, Lexie had, but those memories were hers now—to know that you never tried to break up a barfight, but those were her friends, people she loved. She couldn’t just leave them.

“It’s mine!”

She leapt away from the brawl, back pressing hard into the dated paneling as she stared at Duke, eyes blazing silver, the blanket clutched in his hands.

Nathan, bleeding and determined, was flexing his left arm, tattoo standing out dark against his skin, while his right arm hung strangely limp at his side. “Not if I take it.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter chapter this week, but the next one will be long. Please comment, it keeps me going.

Duke’s head was spinning. He had come into the office for a reason, probably to get the blanket from Dwight, but that somehow felt wrong. He had it now, so he should feel happy, but he was panicking. Nathan and Dwight were both ready to take it from him.

The rush from Nathan’s blood was fading. Part of him felt a little bad; he hadn’t meant to hit him that hard. But Nathan had hit him harder dozens of times, and he was trying to take the blanket, so he deserved it. He wouldn’t take this from Duke. It was unreasonable for Nathan to walk around acting like he had a right to everything in town. Take Audrey, take Lexie, take whatever the hell he wants, but Duke won’t let him take this. Not this time.

He balled the blanket up in his arms, cradling it like a baby and leaning over it protectively. He looked up and saw Audrey, leaning against the desk. She was mimicking his posture but protecting her own hand. Was she hurt?

For a moment, his head cleared; in the absence of the bloodrush and the blanket’s fog, and he was worried about her. He hadn’t noticed her being hurt; he’d thought she was out of the fight.

“Duke,” She said, “You have to—”

Nathan had seen Duke’s distraction and lunged for him, knocking them both to the ground. Duke’s cheek connected with the less-than-clean linoleum floor, and the shock of it loosened his grip on the blanket.

Nathan had it. Once again, Duke was boiling with rage, lunging towards Nathan to grab what was rightfully his. The moment of clarity evaporated, leaving only the faintest trace of Audrey’s words. She’d wanted him to do something. What…

He was holding half the blanket, engaged in a brutal game of tug of war with Nathan. He was bigger, stronger; he would win. Nathan’s trouble might give him an advantage—

Trouble.

The blanket was troubled. Audrey had said that. Audrey was going to destroy it. His grip tightened and he nearly pulled Nathan over into his lap, gaining little more than an inch. It was dangerous, that was why she wanted to get rid of it.

He looked away from the blanket again, this time meeting Nathan’s eyes. They were empty and furious. Duke had seen those eyes angry so many times, but never like this. This was wrong. Nathan’s mouth was bleeding, and Duke knew he had done that, and that somehow felt wrong too. Usually when he punched Nathan, he felt something about it. Right now, he felt nothing. Empty space filled with a vague but powerful need to own this blanket.

 _Because it’s troubled,_ Audrey’s voice reminded him. He looked up at her, hoping to clear his head a little more, and saw her reaching towards them, a lighter in one hand. Dwight had both arms around her, hauling her back in a way that must have hurt.

The lighter fell from her hands, hitting the floor with a tinny crack that felt louder than a gunshot. Without thinking, Duke made one final pull for the blanket, kicking out with one foot to get Nathan off of it. In the next second, the lighter was in his hand. He looked at Audrey, watching him with wide eyes despite the fact that Dwight was yanking on her hair.

All of this was wrong, and he could do something about it. He kept his eyes on Audrey while he flicked the lighter to life and held it against the thick wool.

It burned better than he was expecting, spreading to his shirtsleeves too fast, but he felt the trouble flare and die in the flames.

Of course. He’d killed it.

The daze only faded away when he realized Nathan had grabbed him, patting his arms down to extinguish the smoldering ruins of his sleeves. “Duke?” His voice was rough with panic, and that was kind of nice.   
What wasn’t nice was the fact that Nathan was putting out fires with his bare hands, or—Duke noticed belatedly—hand, because only one of his arms appeared to be working. “Stop!” He grabbed Nathan and froze. They were holding hands, gripping tight. This was panic fueled, not the hesitant grab they’d had when Lexie was still unconscious. He could feel Nathan’s rough palms better this time, and he paused for a moment to enjoy it before he shook himself away from those thoughts.

It was dumb, dangerous, setting himself up for the ultimate disappointment to even think about that. Still, he had to finish what he’d started.

He flipped Nathan’s good hand over, checking it for burns. “You’re okay,” He told him, not that Nathan seemed at all worried. He hadn’t seemed to have even noticed the useless arm.

“Are you?” Nathan asked.

Duke nodded slowly, taking stock. His knees hurt, and his face where it had hit the floor, but nothing seemed urgent.

Dwight was mid-apology to Audrey, who looked like she wanted to escape it to check on them. “—I don’t know—”

“I’m fine, Dwight,” She said. “It’s over. It’s fine.”

Dwight looked too horrified to be able to understand what she was saying, but at least he stopped apologizing.

She focused on them, and Duke almost flinched away from the full force of her eyes on his. Without bothering to stand up, she scooted across the floor to sit next to them, wrapping one arm awkwardly around Duke. “Thank you,” She whispered in his ear. “Thank you.”

He closed his eyes. In the early days, he’d waited for her to say that, wanted to hear it, or any acknowledgement of how much he did for her, how much he would give for her. After a while, he’d stopped expecting thanks, but had kept helping her, kept offering more and more of himself.

Lexie had thanked him. He remembered that, and he remembered that he’d told her how frustrated he’d been with Audrey about it. He pulled away from her so he could look at her and tried to say something.

She smiled like she knew what he was thinking, like she knew what he had done, and he found that he couldn’t talk around an unexpected lump in his throat.

Averting his eyes, they fell on Nathan’s shoulder which was oddly misshapen, and the whole arm seemed useless as Nathan poked at it apathetically.

“We should—” Duke frowned, not sure how to go on— “Do something about that.”

Nathan gave a half-shrug. “We can’t make it to the hospital.”

“We could set it here,” Dwight said, having recovered enough. “Your trouble’s going to come in handy.”

Duke watched Nathan bristle, eyes narrowing like he suspected that Dwight was making fun of him. That, Duke had to admit, was probably his fault. If anyone had made Nathan paranoid that he was the butt of a joke, it was him.

After a moment, Nathan must have decided that Dwight was being sincere, and he nodded. “Do it.”

Dwight stood behind Nathan and grabbed the injured arm, lifting it and slowly rotating it despite the distinct wrongness to the movement. Audrey turned away, hiding her face in Duke’s shoulder, which he found both surprising and endearing; Audrey had never been squeamish before.

He never would have admitted it after the fact, but when Nathan’s arm went back into its socket, Duke flinched at the sound, tucking his head down behind Audrey’s. Maybe Nathan couldn’t feel it, but Duke swore _he_ could.

“Don’t use it too much,” Dwight was saying as Duke made sure he was collected enough to look at Nathan again. “There might be stuff still torn up in there.”

Duke took off his sweater and moved around Nathan, ignoring his weak protests and tying it into a makeshift sling, carefully setting the knot so that Nathan couldn’t untie it when no one was looking.

Nathan opened his mouth to protest, but Duke shook his head. “Shut up and enjoy your sling, Nate.” Without another word, he stood up and left the office. He still needed that moment alone he’d been craving since Audrey had woken up.

He wandered the station, knowing that for warmth purposes he should stay in the bullpen with the others, especially now that he didn’t have his sweater, but knowing that he wouldn’t be able to do the thinking he needed to do with Audrey and Nathan’s eyes on him.

There was nowhere in the whole building he felt comfortable. It was a goddamn police station and he couldn’t leave which brought up a number of memories, none of them pleasant. What he really wanted was to get the hell out of Haven, just for a day or two, take the _Rouge_ and head out to sea until his head was on straight. Nathan would hate that—not that Duke cared what he thought—because Nathan had never met a problem he didn’t run directly at without thinking about it for a second. Sometimes Duke missed the sweet, cautious kid Nathan had been, because the adult he’d become baffled him.

Finally, Duke gave up and sank down to sit in the stairwell, pressed into a corner where no one would be able to see him unless they were standing directly next to him. It was as alone as he could be and would give him some warning before anyone showed up. Like it or not, he had to figure this out, and Audrey certainly seemed to think that he needed to figure this out before the storm stopped and they were free to leave.

That, he decided, was unfair. This wasn’t the kind of thing anyone should rush into, but of course Audrey and Nathan would.

 _They need you,_ a very annoying voice pointed out. He knew that. He’d realized that in the beginning, after some guy’s trouble had turned Nathan into even more of a crazy rage monster and he’d been chained up on Duke’s boat for an hour while Audrey did whatever she had to. The two of them, on their own, could not deal with troubles. Some of them, maybe, but not all of them. No matter what he said, no matter where he went, at some point, one or both of them would find themselves calling him, telling him that they needed his help.

Knowing that, would it be so bad, really, to just accept their offer? To be with them and let it burn in the way he knew it would?

Because there was no question in his mind that it would go down in flames. He and Nathan could barely go four sentences without fighting, and that was an improvement on how they’d been. Audrey was too focused on the troubles, and she would ignore the two of them if it meant solving some other problem, and there would always be another problem because this was Haven. She would never stay and deal with things when she needed to, she would go solve a trouble and expect that everything was fine when she got back.

 _But she said thank you._ The voice was back, irritating as ever. Did that mean she’d changed? Or that she was trying to?

God, how he wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe she would really try, and that Nathan would try, and that they would all make this work and the inevitable end that kept playing itself over and over in his mind wouldn’t come.

But what would that look like? Happily ever after? Duke didn’t believe in that, hadn’t believed in it since he’d played pirates with Nathan in kindergarten, since he’d found a body on a beach and tried to comfort a crying stranger.

He frowned; that wasn’t something he thought he remembered, but there it was. He remembered seeing her cry and going to stand next to her. At first, he hadn’t even realized that the man on the beach wasn’t sleeping. The rest was gone. He didn’t remember if she’d said anything to him or if she’d known who he was.

Duke shook his head, not sure what to do with those memories so he dismissed them. It didn’t matter if he remembered Lucy. He remembered Lexie and Audrey, and he doubted the situation would get simpler if Audrey decided to add a third person into the mix, unless Lucy was better communicator than either of her current halves.   
That was mean, Duke knew, but he couldn’t help it. This whole situation was too much, and the fact that Audrey was acting like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world further confirmed his thinking that they wouldn’t be able to pull it off.

Audrey was skating right over potential problems, Nathan would start problems, and Duke would suffer through all of it because he loved them, and in the end, it would break him and break them.

“Where could he have gone?” Audrey’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs and Duke pulled his legs further into the alcove, hiding like a misbehaving child.

“Just let him go, Audrey,” Nathan said, resigned.

“No.” She insisted. “You have to stop acting like running away is just what he does. Every time you manage to completely forget that he always _comes back_.”

Nathan sighed. “I know he does. He proved that when he showed in the middle of nowhere, perfectly alive, to drag me back to Haven.”

“I just want to find him,” Audrey said, her voice strained with nerves. “I need to tell him—”

“Let him think.”   
“But—”

“You can’t fix everyone, Audrey.”

There was a moment’s pause, and Duke strained, wishing he could see what was going on when there was nothing to hear. Were they kissing? Should he care if they were?

“Nathan, no,” Audrey said quietly. “It’s not… right, without him.”

“I know.”

“He wouldn’t have gone downstairs,” Audrey said finally. “And it’s freezing in here. Let’s go back.”

“He’ll find us when he’s ready.”

Duke wanted to be mad at how sure Nathan sounded, but his head was too full of everything else they’d said. They made it sound like…

Hope was dangerous. Hope made people stupid.

But for some reason, that wasn’t stopping him.

* * *

Audrey was pretty sure that she used to be a patient person. She had been a patient person at some point. Maybe Lexie wasn’t patient, and Audrey wasn’t patient, but for all she knew, Lucy or Sarah had been. She tried to find whatever vestiges of that virtue remained while she sat amid the pile of junk Lucy had left for the chief, waiting for Duke to come back.

It was agonizing, and she couldn’t focus as she flipped listlessly through one of the journals Nathan had found in the box, barely taking in any of the words.

“What if he took off?” She asked. “It’s freezing out there and—”

“Duke isn’t stupid,” Nathan reminded her, only half paying attention. “He wouldn’t leave the station.”

“But—”

“Audrey,” Nathan said, “He’ll be back.”

He could only be so calm because he didn’t know what was at stake. Audrey knew. Duke had told her what he was thinking, and she knew if he kept thinking like that, he would talk himself out of being with them. To Nathan, everything was fine, because the last time he’d been alone with Duke they’d been kissing and flirting. Audrey would feel confident too, if that were the case.

But she remembered the hopelessness in his eyes. She remembered how tragic he’d looked when he’d admitted that he loved them.

 _I’ll keep coming back. It’s like a punishment._ Did he really think that was what it would be like to be with them? Was there any way to convince him that he was wrong? Just as wrong as Nathan was when he tried to pretend that he hated Duke?

She stared up at the ceiling. _Why them?_ She asked a god she’d become increasingly less faithful to. _Why couldn’t it have been someone easier? Anyone with less history, less misery._

Nathan reached over and squeezed her hand, all confidence. _If only you knew._

She’d stopped him when he tried to kiss her earlier. It just hadn’t felt right, with everything as scattered as it was. Maybe that was hypocritical of her, because she’d been happy enough to curl up against Duke while Dwight was setting Nathan’s arm.

Speaking of which, Nathan was trying to untie his sling again, muttering quietly when he couldn’t reach the knot.

“Leave it alone,” She said, smacking his good hand lightly.

“I can’t turn the pages,” He complained. “Just untie it for me.”

“No.” She forced herself to turn her attention back to the journal, cursing Garland Wuornos for his dry, strictly factual recounting of events. He could have at least tried to make it a more engaging read.

“You’re going to pull your hair out,” Nathan said after another few minutes of staring at the chief’s square, bland handwriting.

Audrey hadn’t even noticed that she was playing with it, but sure enough one long strand was twined around her finger, nearly cutting off circulation. She unwound it slowly.

“It’s okay, Audrey,” He repeated, the same small, comfortable smile on his face. “We’ll figure it out, right?”

She barely even knew what ‘it’ was anymore, but she found a smile and nodded. “Yeah.”

She flipped a couple pages, past a colorless recounting of some kind of plant trouble, until she stopped at a phrase that caught her eye. _Teagues knows. Won’t say. The key to saving her is in those archives._

“What are the archives?” She asked, showing her journal to Nathan.

“Vince and Dave have a bunch of historical texts and old newspapers in a vault under the Herald, probably half the town’s secrets.” Nathan shrugged.

“And this has never come up before?” She asked.

“If they’re going to share their information, Vince and Dave bring it to us. If they’re not, well they won’t no matter what we do.” He shrugged again.

She was starting to get exasperated. “There could be something in there about saving you and Duke, or about the changing troubles.”

“Vince is never going to let us in there, not if he knows that we’re doing it so you don’t have to kill me.”

Audrey looked up at him and smiled. “Who said anything about them letting us in?”

“Now, I know I’m not hearing you plan crime without me,” Duke said, striding in all confidence and smiles.

She smiled right back. “Just the man I wanted to see. You still know how to break a safe?”

“It’ll take me a minute, but I can do it.” He glanced over at Dwight and Stan, who were sitting around a lantern losing at poker to Rafferty. “Maybe not the best place to plan a heist.”

“Pretty sure in a heist you’re supposed to know what you’re looking for,” Nathan pointed out. “Knowing Vince and Dave there won’t be any organization system down there.”

“So? We'll take whatever we can grab,” Audrey said, refusing to be deterred. This was their chance; she wasn’t giving up for any technicalities.

“What if we get caught?” Nathan asked.

Audrey raised one eyebrow. “What are they going to do, call the cops?”

She could see him fighting a laugh, but he resisted. Duke didn’t and her heart warmed at the sound of his real laugh, not the choppy forced one he used when he didn’t want someone to look too close.

Duke looked over. “Hey, sasquatch, if you caught us stealing something, you’d give us a couple minutes to run, right?”

Dwight turned to stare at them. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“He won’t be a problem.” Duke smiled. “So how are we getting in?”

“Once the storm is clear enough, they’ll be in to write about it. I can go in and ask about something they won’t answer and swipe keys or leave a window open. We come back later and go to the basement to break the safe.”

“Might not even have to break it,” Duke said. “Don’t they keep all their keys in a box on the wall?”

“A box they keep locked,” Nathan said.

Audrey really wished he could get into the spirit of things as well as Duke was. “I can pick a lock.”

He stared at her. “Still?”

He’d seen Lexie do it, and the details of this situation weren’t perfectly clear in her head either. She wondered what skills she had, which ones she’d lost. She was confident that she still knew how to feel for the click of the tumblers, when to push and when to move slowly, but who knew what things she’d given up, or which of Audrey’s wealth of FBI skills had fallen by the wayside to keep Lexie’s ability to pick locks.

“Yeah.”

“I can also do that,” Duke pointed out, raising his hand.

“What if they have an alarm?” Nathan asked.

“Break it?” Duke said with a shrug. “Nathan, stop worrying; we’re not going to get caught.”

Nathan glared at him. “That’s what you used to say right before we got caught.”

“Nathan we were in middle school! Let it go!”

“Do I want to know?” Audrey asked.

“Just following along with one of Duke’s bright ideas,” Nathan said, but Audrey could see the affectionate smile underneath his glare.

“You didn’t have to come,” Duke pointed out. “And you don’t have to come when we do this.”

This time, Nathan didn’t try to hide the smile. “Someone has to keep you out of trouble. Both of you,” He added after a moment.

Audrey wanted to hope this was a good sign. He and Nathan were getting along, joking but not fighting. She was pretty sure nothing they’d said so far qualified as an insult. This had to be a good sign, right?

Maybe time on his own had been good for Duke and he’d come to the conclusion she’d been begging him to see: this was a good thing, worth taking a risk for. If he could just trust them, they’d find a way to make it work.

* * *

Their heist was far from planned, but the other two lost interest long before Nathan had answers to all of his—very practical and necessary—questions. They went back to studying the chief’s journals, looking for some hint about what they might find in the archives.

It was getting colder. Nathan couldn’t tell, but he noticed the others shivering, and he noticed when Audrey draped a coat over his shoulders, further limiting his movements, which were already encumbered by the sling.

He never would have admitted being touched that Duke had given him his sweater for the sling, in fact, it would have been easier to gripe about how thick it was, which made the experience of wearing a sling twice as bad as it would have been, but he forced himself not to. In addition to Audrey’s list, Nathan was making a list for himself.

  1. Accept Audrey’s choices
  2. Don’t fight with Duke.



He had already failed on the first one when he and Duke—it had been Duke’s idea too, not just his—had burst into Dwight’s office. In retrospect, that hadn’t been a good idea. The tapestry had taken effect almost immediately, which had made him fail on the second one. As soon as Duke had burned it, he’d stopped fighting though. He hadn’t even been mad, which he thought was pretty generous, because Duke had ripped his shoulder out of its socket.

It was worth it though, because after that, they’d held hands. Duke had been worried about him. Nathan had noticed his trouble even more than usual when Duke had been leaning over him, tying his sweater into a sling, his long fingers hovering around Nathan’s neck. Nathan knew that at some point, Duke must have touched him, but that awareness only made the lack of sensation worse. He should have been able to feel it. It was almost enough that he’d been able to smell Duke and hear his breath in his ear.

Almost.

Somehow, that had been more intimate, more real, than the kiss, which had been heat of the moment, just as bruising as if Duke had taken his confessions the wrong way and they’d ended up in another fight, and that was without sensation. Nathan could only imagine how it had been for Duke. And he wanted to keep imagining it, letting his mind wander away from the essential tasks at hand while he thought of things that were far more pleasant and far less likely.

It didn’t help that Duke’s smell hadn’t gone away. It clung to the wool sling, distracting Nathan every time he moved. It probably would have been noticeable to anyone, but to his amplified sense of smell, it was debilitating. He’d complained to Audrey about wanting the sling off because it was in the way, which was true, but the real reason was that it was taking everything in his power not to conspicuously bend down and breathe it in.

“It’s kind of amazing we had no idea this was going on,” Duke said, blessedly oblivious to Nathan’s thoughts as he turned another journal page. “Look at this, Wright’s Bridge went down and about ten people were injured because of the Caldwell trouble. All I remember about that week was that I got suspended for putting Mr. Lowell’s wig in the deep fryer.”

Nathan tilted his head. He remembered that week too, remembered that it had been a lonely week with Duke gone, and that his father had been so busy he’d forgotten to pick Nathan up. Four times.

That didn’t make it into the journal.

“What did Mr. Lowell do?” Audrey asked idly, turning another page it didn’t even look like she’d read.

“He made Sally Marshall cry.” Duke shrugged. Sally had probably laughed once the wig was melting in the fryer. Nathan knew he had, and he remembered that Duke had been laughing as he’d been hauled off to the principal’s office.

They went back to the journals for another minute before Audrey sighed. “No mention of Lucy yet, I think this one is too early.”

She reached out and grabbed another of the six identical black-bound books and opened it. Nathan stopped his perusal to watch her for a minute. She played with her hair, wrapping it and unwrapping it from around her finger as she turned pages and sighed.

“Oh.”

Nathan followed Audrey’s gaze to Duke, who didn’t even look aware that he’d made a noise.

“Something you want to share with the class?” Audrey asked.

Duke looked up. “Oh, um… It’s… Nate, it’s when—”

Oh. Wordlessly, Nathan held out his hand and Duke only hesitated for a second before handing him the book.

_Liz dead. Nathan troubled. His father’s._

Six words. Six words for two of the worst days of Nathan’s entire life.

He remembered those days. It had snowed during his mother’s funeral, and Duke, dirty-faced and underdressed, had shown up and hung around on the edges of the crowd. Nathan had looked at him whenever he thought he was going to cry.

The next day, when the hours of an entire day in his cold house which echoed with his mother’s absence yawned in front of him, Duke had shown up and told Nathan they were going sledding.

He didn’t remember now if he’d already been troubled, if he’d stopped feeling and assumed it was a byproduct of the emptiness that came with her death, or if the accident had been the final traumatizing thing to push him over the edge and start the trouble. 

Not that it really mattered anymore. He supposed something would have eventually started it back then, just like something would have eventually started it this time. Technically, none of it was Duke’s fault. He’d just happened to be there, just like he was always there.

“Nathan, are you—” Audrey reached for him, but he didn’t look at her. He knew he would find pity, the same soft expression she’d given him when his father died, and he didn’t want that.

Instead, he looked past her at Duke, just like he had at his mother’s funeral, and saw the same expression he’d seen back then. The same expression Duke had worn all the times some tired teacher had made excuses for his father when he didn’t show up to take Nathan home. _I understand_ , That look said.

And just like he had back in those days, Nathan believed it.

He turned the page, refusing to let those six words derail their progress. They had to find something, or they’d be blind as soon as they got to Vince and Dave’s vault.

He flipped forward into the journal, stopping the next time he caught a relevant word. “Vince and Dave acting strange. They know something.”

Audrey frowned. “That’s not exactly a revelation.”

He turned back a few pages for context. “’Car wreck woman caught poking around the Herald. Lucy Ripley.’ Apparently you can’t drive no matter whose memories you have.”

She flipped him off.

“So, Lucy was investigating them too?” Duke asked.

“At some point they took it upon themselves to keep all the town’s secrets,” Audrey said, bitterness seeping into her tone. “She must have known they were hiding something just like I did.”

“They don’t have the right,” Duke said.

“We sent Sarah to the Herald,” Nathan said. “I told her they would be able to help her.” He looked at Duke. “Maybe they were… us, back then.”

Duke nodded slowly. “When they lost her to the barn, they must have decided to keep everything else for themselves, dole out secrets when whoever was helping her needed a hint.”

“And my dad was a part of it, eventually.”

“And Howard,” Audrey added. “He and the chief talked.” She shuddered, staring down at the journal in silence.

Nathan reached out, touching her wrist carefully expecting her to pull back like she had earlier. She didn’t, turning her hand up to hold his instead. “If I have to go again,” She said, holding up a hand when they both protested. “If I have to go again, if the barn comes back or… whatever, promise me you won’t do what they all did. You have enough proof that I existed, tell whoever I am, like you did for Lexie.”

Nathan was ready to promise—he would promise her anything—but Duke shifted, moving away just slightly. “I don’t know that that really did Lex any favors.”

Audrey glared at him. “That’s not your call.”

Soon, moments like this would happen and Nathan wouldn’t feel a petty burst of happiness that Duke was the one who’d fucked up for once, but he hadn’t gotten there yet.

“She thought we were insane,” Duke pointed out.

“I was there,” Audrey countered. “And I did, but I got over it. I figured it out. Whoever I am next will do that too.” She let go of Nathan to take Duke’s hand in both of hers. “Please, promise me.”

Slowly, Duke nodded. “Okay.”

She turned to Nathan. “I promise.”

“Okay. Now let’s figure out what these bastards know so we can take it from them.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Ashe Gendernoncompliant for all their help on everything I write. Go check out their writing if you know what's good for you. Please comment, it really motivates me and reassures me that this is something y'all want to be reading.

They were in the police station for about twelve hours. According to Nathan and Duke, that was a very short period of time, practically a blessing, but Audrey would have liked to never see that place again.

It was strange, there had been plenty of occasions where, in the process of chasing a trouble or solving a crime, she had run twelve, even fourteen-hour days, but somehow being trapped in there had it even more unbearable.

Or maybe the only unbearable thing was the ease with which Duke was interacting with both of them. They were planning a heist, digging up information on Vince and Dave, reading the chief’s old journals, and through it all Duke was there, helping, offering suggestions. It was just like old times, Audrey thought, except that there was a new tension in the air.

Nathan was oblivious to it. He thought everything was already settled and was therefore far less hyperaware of Duke’s every movement, of the tone of his voice every time he spoke, of the way his eyes narrowed or his eyebrows quirked when he looked at her or Nathan. Audrey could not stop being aware.

Each thing seemed like a clue, and if she could just line them up in the right order, she could figure out exactly what he was thinking and prepare for it. Did he want them? Was he willing to take the risk? Or was he carefully scripting how he would let them down gently, how he would tell Nathan that he hadn’t meant their kiss.

When a couple of Dwight’s guard friends—one of whom happened to drive the town snowplow—had freed them from the station, Nathan had driven them to his house without discussion. It was both the closest and the warmest. Duke hadn’t commented on that, which Audrey wanted to believe was a good sign, but she didn’t know anymore.

She’d thought walking in on the two of them kissing was a good sign, but apparently not.

 _It was bad judgement_ He’d said. _Bad judgement my ass_ , Audrey thought. Someone had to take a first step. Someone had to take a leap of faith. She’d made hers. When the time came, she was sure Nathan would make his. Duke was the only unknown.

Nathan tossed aside the journal he’d been reading. “There’s nothing else in here. If Dad knew anything, he didn’t write it down.”

“Then why say that Vince and Dave had the answers?” Audrey huffed. Apparently, the man was as impossible to get information from dead as he was when he was alive.

“Maybe he saw it. He wouldn’t write down what it was if he remembered what it looked like,” Duke suggested. Audrey searched his face for double meanings or hidden significance in his words but found none. He was just talking about the case.

That felt like too-appropriate retaliation for the way she’d treated him as Audrey, but she didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t feel like that person anymore; if he wanted to drop everything and talk about them, she would have done it happily.

Alas, he seemed to be fully focused on the surface conversation. “Maybe we’ll know it when we see it.”

“There’s not going to be a big red X on it, Duke,” Nathan said. “It’s not a treasure hunt.”

A very small and heartbreakingly sad smile slid across Duke’s face, disappearing nearly as fast as it had appeared. “No, it’s not.”

It must have been some kind of inside joke with them. Audrey almost wished she was a part of it, but there was so much of their history she didn’t want to be involved in, and with Nathan and Duke she had to take the good with the bad. She could handle that in the present, but the past was too much for her.

“We can’t just stop looking,” Nathan said.

“But where do we keep looking?” Duke asked, reasonably in Audrey’s mind, but reasonable had never really worked on Nathan. “We’ve dug through every inch of these journals and gotten nothing.”

“There has to be something we missed!” Nathan insisted, reaching for another journal, one Audrey was sure he’d already read.

She stopped his hand, knowing her touch alone would freeze him long enough for her to talk. “What are you really looking for?” She asked.

He stared back, wounded eyes searching her face like the question was a trick. He looked away. Shrugged. “Nothing.”

The word was addressed to the floor and spoken as unconvincingly as possible.

“Nathan…” Audrey attempted. _Please, tell us._

He looked up again, and this time spoke to Duke. “He only mentioned me once.”

They both looked away from each other, but Audrey still felt like she’d missed half a conversation between them. She didn’t have any kind of gauge for parental relationships; Lexie hadn’t been close to the grandmother that had raised her, and Audrey had been—as she put it—a free agent. But Duke and Nathan were two sides of the same coin in that way, both raised by people who didn’t know what they were doing and did very little.

She didn’t envy it, but she wished she could share it somehow. Mostly, she wished she could speak whatever non-verbal language they always seemed to lapse into during quiet moments. For all she knew, that significant look they’d just shared was the big resolution they’d been hoping for.

“Nathan,” Duke said, “Look… your dad was a dick.”

For a second, Audrey thought Nathan would get mad. His expression was tense, but just as soon as he had bristled, he relaxed, letting out a breath that was almost a laugh. “Yeah, he was.”

“And anyway, what would you even want him to say?” Duke pointed out. “Tell you the truth, I scoured my dad’s journal for stuff like that too. Nothing. I didn’t even get one mention.”

“You win,” Nathan muttered, but when she looked closely, Audrey thought she saw a smile on his face.

“Not much of a prize,” Duke said.

Audrey sighed, flipping one of the journals over in her hands. “Why can’t someone useful have kept one of these?”

“Useful?”

She shrugged. “Like, I don’t know, me, for example.”

“You left yourself that note in… in James’s coffin,” Nathan pointed out, only flinching slightly at the name.

Audrey made a mental note to talk to him about that. The barn felt distant, everything before it was another lifetime entirely, but there was a slow, quiet ache for James, who she’d only barely met. She’d had no time to grieve, and she’d been a person who had no reason to grieve him. Now, she felt the distant sadness, like when she’d read Anne Frank’s diary for the first time as a teenager, not knowing how the book would end. This was sadness for someone she’d never known and would never get to know.

“Very dramatic though,” Duke said, “Lots of flare.”

She seized the much-needed joke, laughing harder than it warranted, forcing herself to shake off the sadness. “Next time I’ll leave myself a treasure map.”

Nathan squeezed her hand. “There’s not going to be a next time.”

Right. Of course not. The barn was gone, and she was still here. Funny, when she’d been Audrey months ago, that would have seemed like a victory.

“Anyone want a drink?” Duke asked. “Since we finished our homework.”

Nathan grumbled something that might have been about Duke taking liberties in his house or might have been complaining about the fact that their proverbial homework was far from done. She tuned him out and nodded. “Yes, please.”

It didn’t surprise her that Duke knew exactly where Nathan’s liquor cabinet was, though she wasn’t sure whether to credit their years long friendship or Duke’s preternatural ability to sniff out the best available alcohol in a given territory.

He glanced over his shoulder at Audrey. “Martini?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No. Whiskey.”

Duke’s smile softened as he stared at her face. He was looking at her the way he’d looked at her when she’d been Lexie. She didn’t want to read too much into it, but her stomach fluttered with something like hope. Maybe this would work out. Maybe they could be okay.

Too many maybes.

Without bothering to ask what Nathan wanted, Duke poured them all generous servings of Nathan’s whiskey and passed them out. No one drank, each staring into the liquid like they were waiting for something.

“To saving Haven,” Duke finally said, uncharacteristically solemn.

She and Nathan raised their glasses, and then they all drank.

Hours later, she tossed and turned in Nathan’s guest bedroom; they’d all opted to sleep in different rooms without discussion. When she managed to sleep, her dreams were panicked as she pointed a gun at Nathan, then Duke, to two of them shifting from one to the other. Around her, shadowed figures closed in, reaching for her, trying to pull her back into the barn.

 _We’ll let go,_ One voice hissed, _Pull the trigger and we’ll let go._

Against her will, her finger was squeezing the trigger as the gun waved wildly between Nathan and Duke like a horrifying game of roulette. It would hit one of them. Her hands wouldn’t let go of the gun. She couldn’t run. Soon the gun would go off. Soon one of them would be dead. She couldn’t stop it.

“NO!”

* * *

Duke had never been a heavy sleeper, and Nathan’s couch—which Duke knew for a fact he’d picked up off the curb years ago—was probably only acceptable to someone who couldn’t feel it. Since Duke could feel it, he was losing hope in getting any sleep at all.

He had hoped that whiskey and sheer exhaustion would put him out, but he wasn’t having much luck. Sleeping somewhere other than the _Rouge_ felt too stationary and eerily quiet, distracting despite the fact that it had been twenty-four hours since he’d slept.

They’d been in the police station all night and when they’d returned to Nathan’s house, he’d pushed to analyze the journals even more. Now, Duke wondered if they were all in their separate rooms staring at different ceilings, wide awake.

He must have dozed off for a moment, because Audrey’s scream woke him with a start. He was running towards the guest room before he was even fully aware of what had woken him.

When he got there, she was twitching faintly, murmuring something in obvious agitation, but still asleep.

Duke couldn’t remember if you were supposed to wake people from nightmares or not, but he knew what he would have wanted, so he put a hand on Audrey’s shoulder and shook gently.

“Duke!” She sat up sharply, wrapping her arms around him and holding tight.

His jaw tightened. This was nice. This was… this was really nice. Carefully, he rested his hands on her back without pressure, not wanting to hold her there if she tried to pull away.

“Are you okay?” She asked him, pulling back just far enough so he could see her eyes shining in the dark room.

“Me?” He smiled and pushed a strand of her wild hair out of her face. “Are you?”

She nodded. “Just a dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “Why are you awake?”

“Have you ever sat on Nathan’s couch?”

Audrey winced. “Right.”

He realized after a moment that she hadn’t let go, and that his back was starting to get sore from the weird twisting position, but that he didn’t want her to let go of him, and he would probably have cut his own hand off rather than let go of her. 

“I can’t sleep,” She said. “Not after that. I’m going to…”

“Let’s go outside,” He said, standing, but keeping one arm around her back as if she needed someone to steady her.

Or maybe he needed her to steady him.

Outside, Nathan’s porch was shockingly bright. He’d known that it was almost noon, but the sunlight glaring off the snow was brutal. Audrey pulled the beat-up quilt she’d stolen from the bed tighter around her shoulders and settled on the bench that overlooked the yard.

There wasn’t much to see, dead tree branches reaching over a wooden fence that had faded to silver-gray over the years, an empty yard that Nathan had never bothered to garden. In spring, Duke thought it would probably be nice, smelling like mud and new grass while birds chattered from the trees, but in winter it was just barren.

“Are you okay?” Audrey asked.

“Am _I_?” He threw back at her easily. “You were the one screaming in your sleep.”

She sighed, breath forming a thin cloud in the frigid air. “I dreamt that they were trying to force me to kill one of you.”

He didn’t say anything. Nightmares were always worse when you woke up and realized they weren’t fiction.

“Which one?” He asked, then wished he could shove the words back into his mouth; this was not an answer he needed or wanted.

“Both,” She said. “Either.” She looked up at him. “It’s unbearable either way.”

He couldn’t hold her stare, blaming the snow glare when his eyes were burning. “Right. Yeah.”

“Duke…”

He ignored her, already knowing where the conversation would go and not really wanting it to. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ignore her unfolding the quilt and clumsily attempting to wrap it around his shoulders. He let it happen, even helping a little though he never would have admitted it. It was kind of nice, being wrapped up, shoulder to shoulder with her.

Carefully, he rested his head on the top of hers. “Don’t assume this is—”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” She sighed, disgruntled. “Just one thing, Duke.”

As if it had been waiting for exactly this, Duke’s exhaustion was catching up with him, suddenly eyes that wouldn’t stay closed were heavy, his muscles relaxing more than he’d managed since he’d slept with Lexie.

Apparently, she wasn’t waiting for a response. “What do you want?”

His eyes snapped open. “What?”

“All this,” She said. “It’s okay if you don’t want us, Duke. But just… want something, please.”

“It’s not—”

“When I had no idea who I really was. When I was a mess, I knew I wanted to help the troubled. When I was Lexie, that was the only thing that kept me sane. I just want that for you, Duke.”

He wanted to argue. He probably had several very coherent points to make, somewhere in his brain, but her voice was soft, and his nose was cold, but his body was warm under the blanket and he was tired.

“Maybe I just want to be a pirate again,” He murmured.

She smiled, stroking his hair until he felt himself drifting off.

 _I want this_ , He thought, when he was too far into sleep to say anything aloud. _But I want it to be easy._

He woke up later to the sound of Nathan and Audrey having a quiet conversation. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to focus enough to hear what they were saying.

“He’s awake,” Nathan said, no longer whispering.

Duke didn’t open his eyes. “How’d you know?”

“Your breathing changed. I could hear it.”

“Stupid overcompensating senses,” Duke muttered, sitting up and stretching, breathing the sharp air to clear the scent of Audrey’s hair out of his head.

“Are you ready?” Audrey asked, rolling her shoulders. He wondered how long he’d been out, and how long she’d sat there, getting stiff and uncomfortable while he slept on her.

“Ready for what?” He asked stupidly.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “We’re robbing Vince and Dave? Ring any bells?”

“Right, right. Sorry, I know crime is a big deal for you, but—”

“For you it’s just another day at work?” Nathan asked, rolling his eyes.

“Basically.” Duke didn’t mention that he hadn’t had much time for criminal activity. Ever since Audrey had helped him clear his record after the Golem trouble, he’d been more or less on the straight and narrow, not that Nathan would believe that. “When are we leaving?”

“Sun’s going down, we missed our chance to do the first part of the plan, so we’ll head out when it gets dark and just break in.”

He’d slept through the first half of the plan, and for whatever reason, Audrey hadn’t woken him up, opting instead for a more difficult break-in. There was no time to waste, with their deadline fast approaching, but that only made him wonder why they wouldn’t just wake him up. He didn’t ask and neither of them volunteered the information, so he just stood up and started gathering his things.

He expected anticipatory tension while they got ready to go, but Audrey and Nathan seemed relaxed while they gathered what few supplies they needed.

Duke went to forage in Nathan’s tragically understocked fridge. They’d eaten out of the vending machine at the station, but Duke suspected most of the stuff in there was older than he was, not that anything Nathan had was much better.

“These crackers are from before I came back to Haven,” Duke complained, throwing the box at Nathan.

It bounced ineffectively off of his chest and exploded when it hit the ground, sending very stale crackers skittering across the floor. He stared at it apathetically and shrugged. “Taste the same.”

Duke’s face curled in disgust. “They definitely don’t.”

Nathan just shrugged and Duke went back to searching for something he could make for them. In the end he scrounged up a passable stir-fry from _probably_ still edible frozen vegetables and watched to make sure both of them ate before he started.

“We should focus on documents, things that look handwritten,” Nathan was saying for—Duke thought—the hundredth time. “No one publishes books about the troubles.”

“Someone should,” Audrey grumbled around a mouthful of food. “Make things a hell of a lot easier for us.”

“People would just think it was fiction,” Nathan pointed out.

“Bad fiction,” Duke pointed out. “No consistency, too depressing, keeps contradicting itself.”

Audrey laughed, and the rest of Duke’s words stuck in his throat as he watched her toss her head back. Her hair, still long and Lexie’s uneven caramel blond, thrown back and moving as her shoulders shook.

That laugh made him ache to be in on the joke.

 _You could be,_ A quiet voice reminded him. Audrey was practically begging him to, and Nathan thought he already was.

He shook his head to clear it; one problem at a time. He had to get these two to survive a heist before he could think about whatever the hell he would do about Audrey’s impossible proposal.

They finished dinner and left to get changed. Nathan had loaned Duke a black sweater, which he tugged over his head with a grimace.

“It itches,” He complained to Nathan when they reconvened.

Nathan stared at him and deadpanned, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Audrey laughed, yanking a massive sweatshirt down over her waist. Duke didn’t want to think too hard about why Audrey had a spare pair of leggings at Nathan’s house. “Ready? God, I haven’t felt like this since last time I snuck out in high school.”

“What happened?” Duke asked stepped outside into the cold, forgoing Nathan’s extremely recognizable truck in favor of walking.

Audrey shrugged. “Went to some party, met some guy, probably not much else.”

Duke didn’t entirely believe her, but he went along with it as they got closer to Main Street and the Herald office. No one was out. It was cold and dark and there was still a thick layer of snow coating everything; everyone in their right mind would be huddled up in a warm, brightly lit kitchen.

Duke wished he spent more time with people in their right minds.

Audrey took the lead when they made it to the door, looking shockingly casual as she fiddled with a set of lockpicks for a couple minutes until the door swung open.

“And I didn’t even break it,” She said cheerfully, stepping into the office.

Being in the Herald office without Vince and Dave was like being at school after hours. Duke shrugged past the shiver crawling up his spine, stepping further into the familiar and yet deeply wrong room.

Nathan had already barged in and begun rifling through the keys hanging up in the box. “Got it. This one’s for the vault.”

“That was easy,” Audrey said, grabbing the key out of his hand.

“Too easy,” Duke pointed out. He couldn’t decide if Vince and Dave were the types to set booby traps, but he was on the lookout for tripwires anyway. They made it downstairs easily enough, but when Audrey stopped abruptly, Nathan crashed into her and Duke crashed into him, nearly toppling them both.

“You okay?” He stretched up to see whatever had stopped her and caught sight of the thick steel door, glinting faintly in the light from Nathan’s flashlight.

“Think you can get through it?” Audrey asked.

Duke stared at the combination dial. Technically, it wasn’t much more complicated than any of the smaller safes he’d cracked over the years. More complicated than the average hotel safe, sure, but as far as old-school dial safes? It was just bigger.

“Yeah, I can get it. Give me some space.”

He knelt down, pressing his ear against the cool metal and slowly turning the dial.

“Bet you wish you had overcompensating hearing now,” Nathan said, an annoyingly charming cocky smile on his face.

Despite the fact that Duke had started to think that, he grimaced irritably at Nathan. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t help with you talking in my ear.”

“Just let him work,” Audrey said, cutting Nathan off before he could retaliate.

It was hard enough to crack a safe under normal circumstances, but with those two staring, he felt self-conscious and clumsy. Thankfully, neither of them knew enough about what he was doing to know that he was taking longer than he should to get it done.

Finally, he heard the final click and was able to drag the obnoxiously heavy door open. “There’d better be something good in here.”

Nathan turned his flashlight on the room, which was no larger than a rich person’s walk-in closet, and even less organized. Papers were stacked higher than Duke’s head, tossed haphazardly aside and tucked behind loosely bound journals. Artifacts Duke didn’t want to touch were scattered about the shelves giving the impression of a very old and very forgotten storage closet underneath a museum.

“What do we… take?” Audrey asked, reaching towards a sheaf of papers and pulling back.

Nathan rolled his eyes, but Duke glared at him before he could even attempt to say “I told you so.”

“We have some time,” Duke said with more confidence than he felt. “We can go through things. Maybe there’s a system we haven’t figured out yet.”

Audrey looked around them skeptically. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“I’ll take this wall,” Nathan said, gesturing to the one closest to him.

“I’ve got this one,” Audrey said, pointing to the far wall.

“Will you need a ladder?” Duke asked, turning to his own wall.

Audrey glared at him. “Shut up; I’m still armed.”

He glanced at her leggings, raising a doubtful eyebrow. The look turned more appreciative as he scanned the rest of her.

She cleared her throat and he raised his eyes to meet hers. “See something you like?” She asked.

He looked away. His wall was covered in random things; he wouldn’t be able to get through it if he had days, so he couldn’t be distracted right now. Never mind that it was a loaded question he still didn’t know how to answer.

Audrey’s quiet, disappointed sigh was barely audible, but still cutting.

They set to work, occasionally holding something up for the others to inspect but mostly working in silence as they each gathered items which might be useful and tucked them into their bags.

The old book caught Duke’s eye after they’d been in there for a while. It was tucked behind a couple old textbooks about the history of the Northeastern coast of America, but Duke thought there was something deliberate about it. This book hadn’t been tossed aside; it had been hidden.

When he opened it, Duke saw that it had been bound and rebound, possibly dozens of times, but the paper was old and water-stained, the ink was running in places, but every page was full of tight handwriting.

He would have needed time to decipher all of it—his Italian was decent but rusty—but he recognized the word for ‘cursed’ and immediately put it in his bag.

“This might be useful,” Audrey said, holding up a notebook. “It looks like some kind of ledger of the troubles. It’s from the eighteen seventies, but there might be something useful in here.”

Duke turned, ready to study it with her, but Nathan stiffened next to them. “Shh.” 

They both looked up, searching the dark space outside the door.

“What?” Audrey hissed.

“Sirens,” Nathan said, and a moment later Duke heard them too.

They exchanged glances. Duke knew there was a chance—maybe even a good one—that those weren’t for them, but he also knew that if they were, getting caught down here would be worse.

“We need to go,” He said.

“But—” Audrey gestured to the expanse of shelf she hadn’t searched.

Duke looked mournfully at his own unfinished task. They’d been in here less than an hour; it just wasn’t enough time. “We have to go,” he repeated, this time with a note of apology in his voice.

They ran up the stairs, not bothering to shut anything behind them or hide what they’d taken. The office was bright with swirling blue and red lights. Duke’s heart was seizing up. All that time and effort going legit and he was about to ruin it after robbing Vince and Dave fucking Teagues with the former chief of police.

“Back door,” Nathan said, putting a hand on Duke’s back and pushing him towards it.

Duke had exactly enough time to get distracted by the touch—did Nathan even know he was doing it?—before he was outside in the knife-sharp air, running away from the Herald.

The cops hadn’t managed to fully surround the office, but Duke could hear them on his heels. Voices shouted from behind them, revealing their location and pushing them to run even faster. His lungs were burning as he dragged frigid air in, and Audrey was struggling to keep up with them in the thick snow.

And yet, despite all that, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Nathan running behind him, wind making his hair stick straight up like he’d worn it in high school, and Duke smiled. He was having fun. It was absurd but running from the cops between Nathan and Audrey, three bags of stolen goods on their backs, was the most fun he’d had in ages.

They were running out of space to get away. There was a fence ahead of them, cops behind them.

“Climb!” Audrey hissed, grabbing the back of his coat and pointing towards a tree.

Duke didn’t hesitate, hauling himself up, Nathan next to him, before they both reached down to pull Audrey up after them.

“Just like old times,” Nathan whispered to him, smiling.

Duke’s stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with being chased by cops as they tried to get away with stolen goods. He couldn’t remember the last time Nathan had smiled at him like that.

Actually, he could; it had been before Nathan had been troubled. Right before.

Their pursuers were getting closer, crashing through the snow and shouting. If it had been spring, they would have been mostly covered with leaves, but the winter barren branches left them exposed.   
They weren’t going to get away, and Duke doubted they’d be able to finish their research in jail.

“I’ll lead them off,” Nathan said. “Meet at Audrey’s.”

Duke was about to protest when Nathan kissed him quickly and jumped out of the tree, hitting the ground loud enough that Duke winced.

* * *

Nathan was probably lucky that he hadn’t broken his ankle jumping out of the tree like that. In fact, he wasn’t at all sure he hadn’t injured it somehow, but he was still managing to run, which meant there could only be so much damage. He ran the opposite direction from where Duke and Audrey were hiding, parallel to the fence, a kiss he couldn’t feel lingering on his lips like a shadow.

They would catch him eventually, but at least Duke and Audrey would have gotten away with everything they’d taken from the vault.

His father would be so disappointed in him right now, but strangely enough that thought made him smile.

Audrey and Duke would get away. They would find a way to save them all. With that in mind, he didn’t even care if they caught him.

He kept running, pushing until he was sure his lungs would have been burning and his legs aching, but he felt no different than he always did. He made it out of town, watching houses get further apart until he was jogging along the rocky coast.

He didn’t know how they’d managed to miss him. Perhaps, after all the troubles and weird shit Haven’s police department had dealt with, they had gotten very bad at solving regular crimes. Or, possibly, the current chief of police had decided it wasn’t worth bothering with, or maybe, having someone with no experience as a police officer in charge of the police department was a bad idea.

Nathan, frankly, didn’t care.

Audrey’s apartment was brightly lit, a cheerful fire roaring in the fireplace, and it smelled like something cooking.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” He deadpanned, fighting a smile when he saw the two of them sitting on her couch sipping wine.

“And what sort of time do you call this?” Duke asked, a smile that didn’t quite reach his mouth crinkling his eyes.

He looked between them. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“We gave you an alibi,” Audrey said pleasantly.

“How?” Nathan asked, a little suspicious of the smile on her face.

She shrugged, hiding said smile in her wine glass. “Dwight called,” She said. “I answered your phone.”

“ _We_ answered your phone,” Duke amended.

“So, Dwight—”   
“Thinks that we were sleeping together,” Audrey said.

Nathan knew he was probably flushed and hoped they would blame his run in the cold and not the very interesting thoughts that were racing through his mind at the possibility. Of course he’d thought about it. Since Duke had kissed him, those thoughts had snuck up on him, distracting him from whatever important thing he should have been thinking about.

Swallowing, he attempted—against his better judgement—to be smooth. “Is he wrong?”

The immediate awkwardness was so palpable Nathan was pretty sure it had a scent. What had he missed? He’d thought that…

He looked at Duke, searching for anger because anger would have been easier than the heavy hurt that had settled in him instead. He hated that, for the first time ever, he couldn’t be angry at Duke.

“Right.” He looked between them, then let his eyes drop. “Never mind.”

“Nathan—” Audrey attempted, but she stopped, probably realizing that he didn’t need reassurance from _her_.

She turned her attention to Duke, searching his face. “Duke,” She said quietly. “What do you want?”

Nathan wasn’t sure what the context of the question was, but he saw the pain rip across Duke’s face and tightened his jaw. _Name it,_ He thought. _Anything, I’d bring down the sky for you. For this._

Duke swallowed. “I want…” He looked between them, panicked, for a second his eyes darted to the balcony doors and Nathan wondered if he would simply run out and jump off, better to brave the freezing ocean than this conversation.

 _Stay,_ He begged silently. _Please._

“Why?” Duke asked him finally. “Why did you…”

Nathan had thought it would have been obvious. He’d wanted it to be obvious so he didn’t have to try and put it into words. “Didn’t want you to get arrested.”

Duke laughed bitterly. “What, that’s your job?”

Nathan looked back at him, trying not to flinch at that harsh laugh. “You’re my job.”

The smile slid off his face and he swallowed so hard Nathan could see the muscles working in his throat. Nathan had to admit that it was nice to see Duke speechless, even if he was desperate for some kind of reply.

After several long seconds without a reply. Nathan attempted a casual shrug. “You’re mine.”

He realized after he’d said it that it wasn’t a remotely casual thing to say, and he hadn’t wanted it to be.   
“I want…” Duke finally said. “I don’t want you to need me. I want… I just want to be wanted.”

They all jumped when Audrey’s wine glass, forgotten in her hands, dropped to the ground and shattered.

“Duke,” She whispered, voice choked.

Nathan was frozen, speechless. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it was for Duke to admit that. He thought about trying to say something that heartrendingly honest for a second and couldn’t. Whatever truth he’d have that would do to him what those words had done to Duke was buried so deep Nathan didn’t even know what it was.

He saw, in disjointed flashbacks, the many times he and Audrey had sought Duke out, for help, for questioning, for some task that only he could do. It had come to a point where, even when he didn’t want him around, Nathan expected Duke to be there while they solved troubles.

It wasn’t that they thought they needed him, though Nathan was getting to a point where he could admit that they did, it was that Nathan had assumed he wanted to be there as much as he or Audrey did.

“Duke,” Audrey repeated, standing to move closer to him and put a very careful hand on his arm, like she was expecting him to attack like a cornered animal.

Nathan stepped forward. He knew he had something to say, he knew he had to say _something_ , but he couldn’t find the words.

 _Of course_ he wanted Duke. _Of course_ this wasn’t just about them needing him around because he was helpful. But those words wouldn’t form, wouldn’t escape his throat and make themselves heard.

He was standing right in front of Duke now. It would have been the right time to say whatever it was he wanted to say. 

Duke was looking at him like there was something he wanted to hear. _I’ll say it if you just tell me what it is,_ Nathan pleaded internally, but he knew that wasn’t how this worked. He needed to know what to say, or else it wouldn’t mean anything.

And still, he couldn’t speak. Words, he decided, were overrated anyway, so he leaned in to kiss Duke, maybe to buy time, maybe because he wanted to, or maybe because it said more than he was able to.

His eyes were open, because there was no other way for him to know what he was doing, so he saw Duke’s hands slide up to hold his face for a second before Duke pulled away.

“Nate.” He pressed his forehead against Nathan’s, and the ache of wanting to be able to feel it was sharp. “We’re going to mess this up.”

“You might,” Nathan said, habit kicking in before he could stop himself.

“Nathan!” Audrey snapped.

But Duke smiled, brief and sad. “You think you’re joking.”

Nathan stroked Duke’s jaw. “I am joking. We’re going to be fine.”

“But what if—”

“What if I blow up the barn and you both disappear for six months?” Nathan said. “What if Audrey turns into someone else and then has to combine her two personalities? What if we get stuck in a time loop that repeats for days and we both die? We got through all of that. We’ll get through whatever else happens.”

“What if I piss you off and you try to shoot me again?” Duke asked.

Sticks and stones could break his bones and Nathan would never feel it, but words would always hurt him.

“How many times can I say I’m sorry for being an idiot before you believe me?” Nathan asked, feeling something like anger.

“Once might be nice,” Duke snapped back.

Audrey took a step away from them, just watching.

Nathan grabbed Duke’s jaw. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Duke asked.

 _Smartass._ “Being an idiot.”

“And?”

“Duke—”

“Aaand?”

“Nathan, just—” Audrey interrupted.

“And almost killing you over a misunderstanding. It won’t happen again. Happy?” Nathan grumbled without pulling away from Duke.

Duke looked at him, considering. “Not yet.”

Then he grabbed Nathan’s jaw and pulled him into a kiss so intense Nathan almost imagined he _could_ feel it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment. I really missed the interaction on the last chapter. Like before, many thanks to Ashe Gendernoncompliant for their tireless encouragement and willingness to listen to me whine.

Duke had never felt so breathless over a single kiss. Once, while on a job with Evi, he’d had to jump out of a moving car. That dizzy, wind-out-of-your-lungs rush had only come close to feeling the way kissing Nathan did.

Audrey sighed quietly behind him, which only served to pull what little breath Duke had left out of his lungs. The same instinct that had made him kiss Nathan in his office had pulled him close this time, but Duke was so fucking tired of fighting. He didn’t have the resistance left.

Nathan had apologized, and the arm with that horrible, cursed tattoo was currently wrapped around Duke in way that spoke more of _la petite mort_ than murder. Could Duke really keep holding a grudge? Was he any better than Nathan if he did?

Duke let out a choked gasp when Nathan bit down on his lip, hard enough that it hurt in the best possible way. His thoughts, whatever they might have been, fled as every other part of Duke’s mind demanded that he pay attention to what was happening in front of him, and—he realized a little belatedly—behind him as Audrey ran her hands down his back.

Nathan was, Duke decided, a bastard for being this good at kissing without even being able to feel what he was doing. It didn’t seem possible and it certainly wasn’t fair.

Pulling back, Nathan looked at him and smiled, infuriatingly confident. “Happy now?”

Duke slid his hands up so they were both cupped around Nathan’s jaw, holding their foreheads together. He closed his eyes because there was no way he could say this if he was still looking into Nathan’s eyes.

“Nate…”

He pulled away to stare at Duke, shocked and horrified and maybe angry. “What?”

Duke closed his eyes again so he wouldn’t have to see. “Nate, Audrey… Christ, you have no idea how much I want this but I—”

“Don’t you dare say you can’t,” Nathan bit out.

Duke sighed. “You act like this would be so easy,” He looked over his shoulder at Audrey to make sure she knew she was included in this. “But it wouldn’t be. It would take so much work and—”

“What in Haven is ever easy?” Nathan asked.

There wasn’t any response Duke had been expecting, but that came out of a different left field entirely. “What?”

“I don’t think this will be easy,” Nathan said, like he was speaking to someone with a very loose grasp of English. “I don’t think anything is easy. But everything will be easier if we have this.”

Perhaps, if Duke went through with this insane plan, there would be a day where hearing Nathan say things like that would not make him feel so utterly eviscerated, but that day hadn’t come yet, and Duke suspected it was a long way off.

His knees shook, for a second he thought he might literally fall to them in front of Nathan, which wouldn’t have been the worst position to be in.

“Duke,” Audrey said quietly, “We want you here. We _want_ you.”

And Nathan smiled, exactly as much of an ass as he always was. “Are you going to make us prove it?”

He would have liked to have resisted, would have wanted to sit and have a long, mature talk about how exactly they would want this to work, but if anything could crumble his resolve it was Nathan—Nathan _fucking_ Wuornos—trying to talk dirty.

So Duke gave up, and gave in.

Through the whole conversation, Duke hadn’t let go of Nathan’s face, so it was especially easy to pull him back in, and even though Nathan wouldn’t know the difference he made sure this time it was soft and sweet and expressing something that both of them had kept well-hidden for a long time.

Nathan shifted, nosing down Duke’s neck and breathing deeply. Duke shuddered when his tongue darted out, tasting Duke’s skin. Behind him, Audrey slid her hands under his shirt, scratching at his back.

Duke blinked, wishing he could find a way to prove that this wasn’t a dream. _If it is,_ He thought, _Would I want it to stop?_

Audrey pulled his shirt off and he decided that no, he would not want to wake up from this, and if this was some kind of trouble that kept him dreaming about things he wanted more than anything, he would rather if they just left him like this.

Nathan sank to his knees, hitting the floor with a concerning thud which he waved off when Duke started to ask. 

Audrey stepped around from behind him, standing over Nathan so she could kiss Duke. It distracted him, but only until Nathan started undoing his pants. He pulled away from Audrey with a gasp, looking down to see Nathan smiling.

 _Fuck._ In his many fantasies about this, it had always been him on his knees for Nathan. He’d never really imagined that this was something Nathan would do, but god if it was happening, he was going to enjoy it.

Audrey put two fingers under his chin, lifting his head so he was forced to meet her eyes, and then smiled before she kissed him.

 _Lex’s smile,_ he thought with a pang that was neither happy nor sad, but some perfect combination of both. She remembered how much he’d loved it when she smiled at him, when sex hadn’t been high pressure and intense like everything else in their lives; it had been fun. It was that, more than anything else that made the Lexie-Audrey situation slide into place for him.

_She’s here, I’m here—_

The thought cut off when Nathan took him into his mouth. Duke gasped against Audrey’s lips, jerking back to catch a glimpse of Nathan, who really had no right to be this good at this.

 _Has he done this before?_ Duke thought, which turned out to be such an arousing idea that Duke had to force his thoughts into tamer directions or risk embarrassing himself in front of both of them.

Audrey was still smiling against his skin, trailing kisses away from his lips and down his jaw until her head was resting on his shoulder while she teased and bit his neck. She found a spot that that felt particularly good and Duke’s hips jerked involuntarily, pulling a choked sound from Nathan.

It took Duke a moment to identify it as a groan. _He liked that,_ Duke thought with a low moan of his own. He put one hand on the back of Nathan’s head, raking his hand through his hair and wishing Nathan could feel it. It wasn’t fair that Nathan could undo him like this, and Duke would never be able to return the favor, not completely.

 _Not never,_ A small, optimistic voice reminded him. _We’re going to fix this._ Suddenly, with Audrey’s lips on his ear and Nathan’s mouth on his cock, everything seemed possible, because Christ, if something like this could happen to someone like him than truly anything could happen.

“How does it feel?” Nathan rasped, looking up at Duke with wet lips and glassy eyes. “Tell me.”

 _Fuck._ Duke was breathless again for a moment and unable to speak, but he found words, letting them spill over each other, clumsy and sincere, describing not just how Nathan felt, but Audrey too. Barely coherent sentences as he thrust shallowly into Nathan’s mouth until he had to pull away or risk ending this well before he wanted to.

Nathan looked up, and Duke swore he was disappointed, and that in itself almost pushed Duke over the edge. It was still unimaginable that Nathan really wanted this, and yet at every turn, everything told him that he did. Duke felt his jaw flex, an entirely new emotion closing his throat for a second.

Standing, Nathan nudged past Audrey to kiss Duke, leaning in close so he could whisper. “Would’ve kept going.”

Duke took a sharp breath through his nose. “I know.” He pulled Nathan into another intense kiss.

Next to him, Audrey gasped, and Duke opened his eyes to see Nathan’s hand trailing between her legs. He turned his attention to her too, knowing he wouldn’t be able to handle both their attention on him much longer, and figuring Audrey was a lot more capable.

Nathan pulled her back against his chest, his finger still playing idly with her folds while he nipped at her neck. Duke, faced with the reality that this was really happening, and he could actually have this—have _them_ —was nearly paralyzed.

Impatient, Audrey reached out, grabbed his hand, and guided it to her breasts, smiling at him before gasping a little at something Nathan had done.

Not one to turn down instructions, Duke traced one thumb around her already peaked nipple, gently scraping the blunt edge of his nail across it. She let out a sound he had never thought he’d hear from Audrey. In reaction, Nathan’s hips bucked towards her as he buried his face in her neck. 

They looked good together—Duke had always thought that, even when it had been tinged with jealousy—and he was torn between joining in and watching them. 

Once again, Audrey decided for him. She put his hand back on her breast, her nails digging into his skin as she arched further into Nathan’s hand.

Duke worked her harder, increasing his pressure and timing it carefully with Nathan’s hand. He could feel her muscles tense, could see the sheen of sweat on her skin, but his eyes were fixed on her face, twisted up as she reached down to grab Nathan’s hand, holding it where it was so she could grind onto it the way she liked. Nathan’s face, right next to hers, was equally awash with bliss and Duke swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful than the two of them next to each other like that.

Audrey came with a cry, the end of which she buried in Duke’s lips. Behind her, Nathan seemed to have been right on the edge, and Duke felt a significant thrill at the fact that they’d pulled away just before his release.

Jaw tight, Nathan leaned closer to him, reaching for Duke even with his eyes closed. They kissed with Audrey boneless between them as Nathan reached down to stroke Duke, a little clumsily but because it was Nathan, Duke would love anything he did.

That was a strong word. A word Duke avoided saying. But it hovered, as true as it was inconvenient, at the back of his mind. He loved them.

Nathan’s grip tightened, and Duke let out a strangled groan, half pain, half pleasure. Nathan looked up, meeting his eyes and silently apologizing. Duke kissed him rather than accept it. It was easily the best way Nathan had ever hurt him, and Duke was starting to believe it was the only way he’d hurt him in the future.

Still between them, Audrey sighed softly. “What’s next?”

Nathan swallowed hard enough that Duke could see the muscles of his throat work, a fact that made him miss Nathan’s mouth on his cock. Letting go of Duke, he leaned in to press a kiss to his chest. “What do you want?”

Duke had to take a second to compose himself. They had asked _him_. “I want…” he looked between the two of them, caught up in all of the incredible possibilities. “I…”

Audrey kissed him. “There’ll be time, Duke. There’ll be time for everything.”

He would have time later to worry about how she’d apparently read his mind. He met her eyes. “I want you.”

* * *

Right here, naked between her boys, Audrey knew exactly who she was. Something in her mind was settled at the absolute correctness of this feeling, of both their hands on her, their lips on each other’s.

 _This is how we’re supposed to be,_ She thought, not something she would have usually indulged, but it was hard not to be sentimental when they were with her like this. How many fights had there been? How many pointless troubles and arguments had they allowed to form wedges between them?

Now, finally, the barriers were gone, and she was Audrey, and they were Nathan and Duke and even if she wasn’t exactly sure where she ended and they began, that thought didn’t bother her at all.

“I want you,” Duke said, all his quiet intensity bringing goosebumps to Audrey’s skin.

Nathan kissed her shoulder. “Good,” He said, breathless, “I think I need a minute.”

“Bed?” Audrey asked, more than a little hopeful.

“God, yes,” Duke ground out. He lifted her like she weighed nothing, carrying her to the bed and dropping her on it, laughing when she bounced. Nathan followed, slower, his eyes blown wide and unfocused. What she wouldn’t give to know what he was thinking, to know what she and Duke looked like through his eyes.

Nathan settled next to her and his gaze, still heavy-lidded and glassy, was so fixed she could sense it on her back as she rolled towards Duke and pulled him into a clumsy hug. He held her back, fiercely strong. What had started out playful melted into something else entirely, or maybe it had always been for him.

Duke rolled over her, hovering on his elbows and staring down at her. She had been here before when they’d thought she was Lexie. She had been struck by the way he had carried his quiet intensity with him into sex, but now, with the benefit of all of Audrey’s memories, everything she knew about him, it was ten times as intense.

She pulled back a little to look at him. “Are you still here for me?”

He nodded, remembering. “Yes. Whoever you are, whatever happens.”

She smiled and kissed him. Nathan was watching, but that moment had been entirely theirs. Maybe someday they would explain it to him, but they didn’t have to. She had history with both of them, and they had history with each other, but they were making new memories now.

Duke slid into her slowly, a low groan slipping through his lips from far back in his throat. Next to them, Nathan matched the sound, and Audrey turned to look at him, letting her eyes close and arching her back more than she might have without an audience. It was fun to put on a show.

Not that this required any acting; Duke knew what he was doing, whether that was because he’d been with her before or because of the years of practice she was sure he had, she didn’t really care. What she cared about was the feel of his fingers reaching between them to stroke her clit, the feel of his lips against her throat, the sound of his voice when he sighed her name.

She reached out, clawing at the sheets until she had grabbed Nathan’s hand, clinging to that, to any sense of being grounded while Duke built her up, stroking carefully and thrusting hard until she was sure she would shatter.

When she finally did, it was with a sound that made her glad she didn’t have neighbors, her hips bucking wildly against Duke, who never faltered in his careful rhythm. She squeezed Nathan’s hand as she fell apart, probably hard enough to hurt but she was too far gone to care, and she knew he wouldn’t mind.

It took a moment for her to come back to herself, and when she did, she saw that Nathan had moved closer, pressing himself along her side so he could kiss Duke’s shoulder, his neck, any skin he could reach.

Finally, that broke Duke’s control. His hand slowed and stopped as he gripped Audrey’s hips and drove into her, their names falling from his lips like prayers, like they offered absolution for sins Audrey knew he hadn’t committed.

It felt good, and as overstimulated as she was, she was sure she came again while he finished. Before it was even really over, he rolled away, towards Nathan. She missed the warmth, but the sight of the two of them wrapped around each other like that would have made up for any number of minor discomforts.

 _They’re mine,_ She thought, proud and protective and more deeply in love than she’d realized she was capable of being. _These beautiful idiots are mine._

Nathan was thrusting shallowly towards Duke, purely on instinct. Audrey doubted he even knew he was doing it. Finally, he pulled away, shifting to sit up further, propped against the pillows.

Audrey reached for him, wanting to offer help, but he shuddered almost violently when her hand just brushed his chest. He stopped her. “’S too much,” He muttered. “Be over in a second. Duke… please—”

“Look at you,” Duke said, his smile was teasing but his eyes glittered with intensity. “It’ll be over in a second anyway.”

He wrapped his hand around Nathan, stroking slowly, probably deliberately opposing the rhythm Nathan was trying to set with his little unconscious thrusts.

Nathan panted and groaned, but never let his eyes close. Audrey held her breath, shocked that she could still be this aroused after three orgasms, just from watching them. She slid her hand between her folds, stroking idly, not working towards anything, just enjoying the sensation and the show.

“Want to see you,” Nathan murmured. “So good.”

Duke’s eyes closed and Audrey filed that observation away for later use. For now, she took Nathan’s hand, carefully uncurling each finger from the sheets, and brought it to her lips, kissing gently.

He groaned like she’d touched him somewhere far more intimate and he gripped Duke’s hand, forcing him to go faster. Audrey pulled one finger into her mouth, dragging her teeth across it and that finally undid him. His eyes went wide before finally closing as he came with a low groan and Duke’s whispered name.

She kissed his hand one last time before curling it into a fist and releasing him. He was still blissed out and barely aware.

Duke flopped down between them, just breathing for a moment. Audrey moved so she was sprawled across him, needing to be close, if only to prove this hadn’t been an especially amazing dream. He wrapped his hands around her ribs and rotated her so she fell between him and Nathan.

They both curled into her like magnets, somehow finding space for all their arms and legs.

“What now?” Duke asked, stretching before wrapping around her again.

“Sleep,” Nathan said, sounding like he’d already started.

Audrey shifted, catching herself just before she mewled like an especially contented cat. “A nap sounds nice,” She agreed.

This was as safe and as happy as she had ever felt, so it was with a completely quiet, satisfied mind that she fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

They woke slowly, still lying around each other. Audrey’s bed was only barely big enough for the three of them, not that Nathan would have changed anything about it.

Duke sighed, grumbling faintly. “We should start digging through that stuff.” He gestured towards the packs full of stolen documents.

Nathan stretched and rolled his eyes. “Duke Crocker advocating for getting out of bed and doing work? What the hell happened to you?”

“I hate you,” Duke said affectionately, nuzzling into Nathan’s shoulder.

“He’s right,” Audrey said. “We shouldn’t waste all the effort we put into stealing that stuff. And also, it’s really warm in here and you two are _heavy._ ”

Nathan looked over to see her pushing ineffectually on Duke’s arm, who only pulled her closer, trapping her against his chest. He could have watched the two of them like that forever.

The sex had been mind-blowing, more so for the fact that Nathan never would have thought it was possible for them to get here, but this little moment, with the three of them relaxed for once, this was pure gold. Nathan almost didn’t recognize what he was feeling; he had become so unused to being genuinely, unconditionally happy. 

Laughing, Audrey made her escape, walking across the room uncovered and unashamed to pick up Duke’s shirt off the ground. “There’ll be time for more of this later, after we figure out how to save your lives.”

“You promise?” Nathan asked, finally moving to stand up and find some clothes.

Audrey smiled in a way that made Nathan rethink the working plan and said, “I _promise_.”

Duke smiled affectionately at the both of them. “You’re insatiable, but we really should work on saving the goddamn world.”

They all got some form of comfortably half-dressed and spread the spoils of their heist around on the bed. Nathan stared at the piles of unrelated, disorganized papers, covered in scribbles and footnotes to the point of illegibility. “On second thought, let the world burn.”

“No way out but through,” Audrey said, picking up a random sheaf of papers which had been tied together with pieces of leather cord.

Nathan found his own paper—something so old and faded it looked like tissue—and squinted at it balefully.

They hadn’t been working for more than a second before Duke shuddered. “I hate this fucking thing.” He held out the old book he’d been studying.

The guard symbol was inked carefully onto the first page of the book, faded but still perfectly recognizable. Nathan ducked his head and tucked his left arm behind his back, suddenly very conscious of the tattoo, still stark and oil-spill black, on his skin.

“What is that?” Audrey asked, gesturing at the book.

“No title,” Duke said. “Just some old book.”

“Looks handwritten,” Audrey said, only half paying attention.

Duke nodded and flipped further into the book. “It’s in bad Italian, so I’m not making a ton of progress, but he talks about curses a lot.”

“That’s promising,” Audrey said. “Let us know if you find anything.”

A book with a Guard symbol in it didn’t seem promising to Nathan, but he kept those thoughts to himself. He doubted the guard—even members who’d been dead for hundreds of years—would let their secrets get out.

It took Nathan ten minutes to determine that his document was useless. It was a transcription of a trial, evidently of a troubled person, which was interesting in its own right, but had nothing to offer their cause. He set it carefully into a reject pile and picked up something new.

The new document, a heavily edited list of casualties during a trouble from nearly a century previous, proved just as dry. It was amazing that something so tragic could turn out so boring on paper. Dozens of people were dead, and they’d had to fabricate a Spanish influenza outbreak just to hide the truth.

“Hey, Audrey, this one’s talking about you,” Duke said, and Nathan was reminded of the single time he’d attempted to study with Duke in high school; the guy hadn’t shut up and let him work the entire time, until Nathan had given up on studying altogether.

Audrey, apparently just as easily distracted, leaned over. “What’s it say?”

“’During every Dark Time, the Woman arrives. Her name is different, but her face remains the same.’ Look, he even did a little drawing.”

“The nose is wrong,” She said.

Duke continued. “’She helps the unfortunate cursed ones, and Her sacrifice offers our… relief?’ That word could mean something else. But ‘helps the cursed ones’ sounds like Audrey.”

“The politically correct term is troubled,” Nathan grumbled.

“This was written three hundred years ago, cut him some slack,” Duke said with a smile before continuing. “’No measures taken can keep the Vessel from taking Her—”

“This is creepy,” Audrey said with a shudder. Nathan reached over to wrap an arm around her, suppressing a shudder of his own at all that contact.

“Maybe he tried to keep her with them?” Nathan said. Apparently it hadn’t occurred to _him_ to shoot Howard, but Nathan could hardly blame him for that.

Audrey leaned closer into Nathan. “It’s like… it’s like every time I’m here, I find people to help me.”

“Usually two,” Duke said. “This guy claims not to have met the Woman. He arrived after she left but said that two people he spoke to knew her well.”

“In the fifties it was Vince and Dave,” Nathan said, “My dad and… James, when you were Lucy.”

“And us,” Duke said quietly.

“What does it mean?” Audrey asked.

“And there’s a Crocker,” Duke said. “Says here ‘there must always be one who opposes her.’”

“But you didn’t do that.” Perhaps a year ago, Nathan wouldn’t have been able to admit that—too stubborn and angry—but he saw it clearly now.

Duke gasped, flipping back to the front page of the book. “The symbol.”

“What?”

“The fucking—” Tossing the book aside, Duke grabbed Nathan’s arm, holding it out so they could all look at the tattoo. Nathan suddenly felt more naked and embarrassed than he had when they’d been fucking. “—The mark. That’s what this guy’s explaining.”

“The Woman, is at the top of the circle, beside her, her two allies, and the one opposite her.”

“So what’s—”

“The barn,” Audrey said. “The maze is the barn.”

“Duke,” Nathan said. “That book has what we’re looking for. Keep going.”

He nodded, looking slightly gray under his tanned skin. “Yeah.”

Swallowing hard, Duke kept going, this time silently, while Nathan and Audrey crowded around him in an attempt to get a better look.

Not that it helped him; he didn’t speak any Italian, and he certainly couldn’t read whatever version of it this diary had been written in.

“Who even wrote this thing?” Audrey said after a second of staring fruitlessly at the page. Duke flipped back to the front, underneath the guard symbol.

“Looks like it says… Cabot. Who the hell is Cabot?” Duke asked.

“Seriously?” Nathan said. “We talked about him for a month in history class. See this is what happens when you skip school.” 

Duke glared at him. “Yes, thanks Professor Nathan, do you want to share with us?”

Trying not to sound like too much of a know it all, Nathan said, “Cabot was an explorer, the first European to set foot in North America. Some people believe he landed around here, but it could have been further North.”

“And that’s relevant because…” Duke raised one eyebrow and Nathan glared at him; some things never changed.

“Because if he was here, he might have found the troubles. It sounds like he talked to the native people that lived around here—”

“He did,” Duke said. “Lotta racism.” 

“Yeah. I… I can’t believe they talked to him.” Nathan said, imagining the condescending European bullshit Duke must have been wading through. “But if they did then they may have—”

“Wait, Cabot’s journal?” Audrey said. “Shit, there’s a translation of it around here somewhere, I remember grabbing it.” She pulled the packet out from under a folder of old Herald clippings. And handed it to Nathan, who skipped through half of it until Cabot was discussing being on land.

“Here,” He said. “Like you said, he just missed the troubles, showing up right after the Hunter, but they were talking about them.”

“And?” Duke asked. God, the man had never had any patience.

“I’m getting to it,” Nathan muttered, flipping farther ahead.

Duke rolled his eyes. “Right, no urgency to this; it’s only our lives at stake.”

Nathan gritted his teeth and ignored him. He read, barely breathing for another minute, then reread the passage twice to make sure he was looking at what he thought he was looking at.

_The curse lifted is a curse itself. With the death of love, all die._

“I found it,” He said. His voice was hoarse, barely audible. “I don’t… Audrey, you were right.”

“What?” She grabbed the packet and pulled it out of his hands, scanning the page. He knew she’d read what he had when she froze, staring at the paper like it was one of those hidden-image pictures. “Does this mean?”

“I think it does,” Nathan said.

Duke leaned over Audrey, staring at the paper in her hand. She gave it to him, leaning away to get some space.

Duke let it flutter onto the bedspread a moment later. “Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“You were right.”

“I know.”

“Is there more?” Duke asked.

Nathan went back to scanning the page. “Just that… when all this started happening, and they’re vague about when that was and why, they were told the rules and told to protect them. The woman was meant to… I guess choose, each time she went into the barn. She could end the troubles forever, killing everyone who had one, or she could postpone it.”

“Why didn’t we know?” Audrey asked. “Why was it such a big secret?”

“Think about it,” Duke said. “When this was written, what? Four hundred years ago? That was still probably a lot of people dying. Now? It’s in the thousands. Someone probably buried it when they were scared you’d make the wrong choice.”

“Any other reference to the choice would have been—”  
“I would have assumed it was about choosing whether or not to go into the barn,” Audrey agreed. “Everyone else probably did too. Who knows how long this has been hidden?”

Duke glared at the journal in his lap. “Hidden in Vince and Dave’s basement.”

Nathan nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. “They might have known.”

Audrey ran her fingers over the cover of the journal. Nathan wondered if she had touched it before, hundreds of years ago. “I think we should pay them a visit.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment. These next few weeks are going to be pretty nightmarish for me and your comments seriously make my day every time. I really appreciate it!

There were probably better ways to do this. Hell, Duke was sure that there were hundreds of ways to get the Guard’s attention without walking down Main Street, stolen journals in hand, and barging into the Herald office like they owned the place.

This one, however, was extremely satisfying.

Audrey led the charge. She had the translation of Cabot’s journal in hand, and the look on her face could have melted steel. Duke almost pitied Vince Teagues, except for the fact that the books that had given them this information had been laying around in Vince’s basement for years, possibly decades, and god only knew what else was there. How much did that man know? And how much did he keep to himself for his own ends? Did he think he was protecting Haven?

That was over, Duke decided. It was time for some fucking transparency in this town, because one more secret, pointlessly and harmfully kept, might just send Duke over the edge.

If he had known what he was, what he could do, if anyone had gotten him away from his father, if, if, if. He was sick of this fucking town, its fucking attitudes, its idiotic habit of binding people to their troubles without discussion or question. He shoved those thoughts away and shoved the door open, pushing so hard that it hit the opposite wall.

Both Vince and Dave acted startled at the bang, as if they hadn’t seen them coming from halfway down the street. 

“Audrey, what a—”

“Cut the bullshit,” She said. “We did it.”

“Did—” He stopped when she glared at him, the veneer of helpless, doddering old man falling away as his shoulders straightened. This man was the leader of the Guard and the keeper of Haven’s secrets.

“This is a translation of Cabot’s journal,” Audrey said. “Have you read it?”

“Yes, and—”

“So you knew that if I had killed Nathan or Duke everyone would have died?”

A vein ticked in Vince’s forehead; the first real sign of agitation Duke had seen. “Now that’s—”

“’ _The curse lifted is a curse itself. With the death of love, all die.’_ Tell me, Vince, what did you think that meant?”

“Hesse’s translation is notoriously unreliable—”

“It seems pretty clear to me. If I kill them, every troubled person dies.” Audrey stepped forward, grabbing Vince’s arm and shoving his sleeve up. The tattoo flickered on and off his skin. “Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”

Dave stepped forward, carefully taking the journal from Audrey. He scanned the page. “I don’t remember seeing this passage. It’s been years since I even looked at this.”

“Stay out of this, Dave,” Vince hissed. To Audrey, he said, “This doesn’t—”

“Did you know?” Nathan asked.

Duke knew that tone of voice better than anyone. That voice meant ‘I’m hurt, I’m offended, and you should be very afraid’. If Vince wasn’t very careful with his next few words, Nathan was going to punch him, and Duke wasn’t going to stop him, Nathan’s probably still injured shoulder be damned.

“Nathan—”

“All that time you were pushing me to get Lexie to fall in love with me, all that time you were acting like this was my fault. Did. You. Know.”

Nathan was in his face, fury tightening his body. Audrey was half-poised to stop him, and Duke was ready to hold her back. Nathan—for once—had every right to be pissed, and if the man wasn’t well into his seventies, Duke probably would have been helping.

Finally, Vince stood down, sinking into his chair and looking older than Duke had ever seen him. “No,” He said. “I didn’t know.”

“This journal was in your vault—” Audrey started.

Vince nodded. “We haven’t read everything in there. Half those pages are ancient sayings and prophecies that may be about Haven or may mean nothing at all. Believe it or not, we don’t know everything about the troubles.”

“Where did all this come from?” Duke asked, trying to move on, trying not to scream.

“Collected,” Dave said. “Over the years, our family has gathered whatever it could about the troubles, and about—”

“Me,” Audrey interrupted. Duke noticed the tension in her jaw, the revulsion on her face. They claimed to have loved Sarah, but Duke wondered if she had ever been more than an experiment, a curiosity. “Anything you want to share?”

They both shook their heads.

“Typical,” Audrey said, and Duke was glad she’d never used that tone with him. He was shocked it didn’t skin Vince and Dave where they stood.

The door behind them swung open and Dwight, Jordan, and two massive Guard members Duke didn’t recognize walked in.

“We want to be a part of this,” One of the strangers said. 

“It’s not your concern,” Vince said, but none of them moved.

Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “What’s happening?”

“We have proof that, if I kill someone I love, every troubled person will die.” Audrey held the paper out so Jordan could see it.

Dwight leaned over too, and Duke swore he saw something like relief on the man’s face. He looked up at them, almost smiling. “You pulled it off.”

“No!” Jordan snapped. “How do we even know this is real? Surely—”

“It was in the vault underneath this office,” Audrey said. “This journal and this translation of it. We have no idea what else is in here, but for all we know, there is another cure for the troubles. If it exists, we’ll find it.”

“And he just gets off scot free?” Jordan bit out, glaring at Nathan.

“What do you want to do, put him on trial?” Audrey snapped. “Give it up, Jordan.”

Jordan’s gaze was steady when she shook her head. “No. I’ll finish it now.”

She raised drew a gun from under her coat, pointing it at Nathan. Duke moved towards Nathan on pure instinct, a wordless shout building in his throat.

It was a much quieter voice than his that stopped her. “Jordan,” Dwight said, only slightly less steady than normal. “I’m not wearing a vest.”

Several pairs of eyes turned to him at once and he shrugged, as if this was just an ordinary day and this a typical, boring discussion. “It gets hot under a coat.”

After a breath of hesitation where Duke honestly thought Jordan might just pull the trigger anyway, she holstered it. “Fine. Let him get away with it. We’ll all die in this fucking town and when it happens, I’ll know exactly who to blame.”

They watched her storm out onto the street, a shadow against blinding white snow.

When they turned back to him, Vince looked like he’d eaten soap. “You have no way of knowing if there’s another cure buried in that journal.”

“Only one way to know there isn’t,” Dwight said. “We should call some people in to go through that vault, see what else is in there that could help us.”

“No,” Vince said, frustratingly calm. “There are things in there that it’s better people don’t know. That secret, like the others, was buried for a reason.”

“With all due respect,” Dwight said, not respectfully at all, “You wanted them to go through with a plan that would have killed us all. If you’d checked your notes, you might have known that it wasn’t going to work. If this gets out, it’ll look bad.” Dwight’s tone suggested that—somehow—it would get out.

“If you need to save face,” Audrey said, “We’ll let you take credit for finding the journal.” Her grin was so perfectly shit-eating that Duke fell further in love with her, if such a thing were possible.

Dwight also appeared to be fighting a smile, but more successfully than Audrey. “So, to be clear, what happened here today was that you stopped Audrey from killing… Nathan?” At his glance, Duke only shrugged. “Just in time and told them that it would have killed everyone. Now, we have a lead for another cure and we just need to do some more research.”

Vince looked furious, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Dave gripped his arm. “Oh, give it up, Vince.”

There was another tense moment, which didn’t seem to faze Dwight at all, before Vince backed down. “Fine. I’ll choose some people to look in the vault.”

Dwight turned to the three of them. “What are you going to do now?”

Duke certainly had a few ideas about that, not that he was going to share them with Dwight, but Nathan spoke first. “We have to find whoever is changing people’s troubles. The snow might have slowed him down, but things won’t be quiet for long.”

Duke would have liked to be surprised, but it was such a Nathan thing to say. They had saved their lives, checked off one item on their list of impossible things, and rather than take even a second to celebrate, he was off on the next one. He smiled a little affectionately. Someday, maybe, they would be able to celebrate, but with these idiots that was likely only to come when they really had saved the world.

Nodding at Nathan, Dwight turned to go. “Let me know if you need help. Glad to have you off death row.” As he started to walk away, Duke noticed the bulky dark blue line of a bullet-proof vest just peeking out from under his coat.

* * *

“We should go to the station,” Nathan said, “And review what we have from the amplified troubles. There might be something there. We could also reach out to Dennis Kirke and see if he remembered anything about the guy who gave him the handprint.”

“You guys go,” Audrey said, kissing each of them quickly. “There’s something I need to do.”

The Scupper was the closest bar to where they were, and it probably shouldn’t have been open at this hour, but Audrey knew, on instinct or understanding, that this is where she would find Jordan.

She bought a bottle of whiskey from the bar, overpaying to hell and not caring very much. It had crossed her mind to wonder where her money came from, if she wasn’t really Audrey Parker or Lexie DeWitt, but she shrugged the thought away. It was hardly a problem as long as she didn’t run out. What’s a little fraud and identity theft compared to the troubles?

Her peace offering in hand, she made her way to the table in the back, underneath the burned-out bulb, where Jordan was sitting.

She looked up as Audrey approached, eyes sharper than knife blades. “Go away.”

“Relax, I come bearing gifts.” She set the bottle on the table between them, pulling up a chair and getting comfortable. She felt herself shifting, sinking more comfortably into Lexie’s mannerisms and mindset. Audrey hadn’t liked Jordan, but Lexie didn’t have any of that latent, immature jealousy that she now realized she should feel guilty for.

“I still don’t want you here,” Jordan said, but she opened the bottle and refilled her glass.

“Fair enough,” Audrey said with a shrug. “But I want to help.”

Jordan snorted and downed her glass. “Really? You want to help me?”

“Yes. It’s my job. It’s what I do. And I never tried to help you, and that was shitty and selfish. You have every right to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Jordan said, but it was obvious that neither of them believed her.

Audrey reached across the table, wrapping her hand around Jordan’s glass so that their fingers just touched.

Jordan jerked her hand away, splashing whiskey down Audrey’s arm. “What the hell—” She stopped, watched as Audrey calmly wiped her hand on a napkin. “That didn’t hurt?”

“I’m immune,” Audrey reminded her.

“This doesn’t make us friends,” Jordan said. “I don’t like you.”

Audrey shrugged. “That’s fine. Too bad though, I kind of like you.”

Jordan snorted again. “No, you don’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Are you always like this with people who try to hang out with you? Because I think your trouble isn’t the only reason people don’t want to hang out with you.”

“Fuck you.”

Somehow, that made her think she was getting somewhere. “Listen—”

“I don’t want your help,” Jordan snapped.

Maybe not. “You’re getting it anyway.”

“No. I don’t want it and you’re not going to force it on me to make yourself feel better.”

“Did you even like Nathan?” Audrey asked, seeing as there wasn’t much left to lose.

“Oh, fuck—”

“Me? Yeah, I get it. Seriously, though, I’m curious; did you like him, or was it just that your trouble didn’t work on him?”

“Does he like you, or is it just because his trouble doesn’t work on you?” Jordan said, her smile bitter as she turned the question back on Audrey.

She answered honestly. “I worried about that, but then, he can’t feel Duke and god knows he’s head over heels for him, so…”

“Crocker?” Jordan scoffed and took another drink. “God.”

“Nathan has terrible taste,” Audrey agreed.

Finally, Jordan’s smile cracked into something genuine. “Fine, I’ll drink to that.”

Audrey tossed back her whole glass. “I think whoever’s tending that bar switched this for something lower shelf.”

“Rickie’s a cheapskate,” Jordan agreed. “So, you think you can fix me?” Her slightly slurred voice suggested that it was a joke, but her eyes were desperate, and—though Audrey might have imagined it—a little hopeful.

“I don’t know,” Audrey told her, unable to lie. “But I want to try. Some troubles can be controlled, managed.”

Jordan held up one of the gloves she’d left on the table. “What do you call this?”

“The best option for the time being, but not the only one. I’ve been able to talk some people down, or some people are like Ginger, once certain conditions are met, the trouble goes away.”

“I thought killing Daniel would do that.” Jordan stared into her glass, and Audrey let her think for a moment. “He’s still alive, I’m still troubled, and I lost my therapist for it.”

“Claire didn’t think it would solve your trouble, did she?”

“No.”

“What did she think?”

Jordan shrugged. “I don’t think she thought anything would.”

Audrey nodded. “It started when Daniel attacked you, didn’t it?”

Abruptly, Jordan slammed her glass down. “Don’t tell me to forgive him. I’d rather live like this than—”

“Whoa,” Audrey held up her hands. “I wasn’t going to. He’s a piece of shit, fuck him. Half my brain is an FBI agent, but the other half? That half wishes you’d put him in the ground.”

Jordan eyed her for a moment. “I might like that half.”

“She’s gotten mixed reviews.”

“So, all that with you coming out of the barn another person, that was real?”

“Yep. Barn wiped my memory, gave me someone else’s, just like always, but we think because it didn’t have long enough, the process got messed up. I ended up with bits of Audrey left over, so I combined.”

“How does that work?”

Now it was Audrey’s turn to study the contents of her glass. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s weird,” Jordan corrected.

“Haven,” Audrey said with a shrug. “It’s a little hard to explain. I kind of… know where certain things come from, but others are more blurred. I remember being Audrey and Lexie, and they don’t quite feel like not me—”

“Please stop,” Jordan said. She refilled Audrey’s glass without asking. When Audrey raised an eyebrow, Jordan shrugged. “Clearly you need it.”

They drank in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jordan said, “Do you really think you can help? Don’t bullshit me, because I swear—”

Audrey forced herself not to look, talk, or act the way she usually did when dealing with the troubled. Most people wanted that calm, comforting veneer, but Jordan would see straight through it. “I don’t know, but… yeah, I think so.”

“So, what is it? What’s the magic secret that’ll cure me?”

“You tell me,” Audrey said with a shrug. “It’s your trouble.”

Jordan glared. “I thought I warned you about bullshitting me.”

“Really? You want to get into a little catfight in the middle of the Scupper? That’ll make Rickie’s day.”

“Just fix me or don’t, but don’t keep fucking around.”

Audrey sighed. “It’s not that simple. It’s about you. If there was a magic cure-all that always worked, don’t you think I’d have done it for Nathan? For everyone?”

“I don’t know.” Jordan looked away, glaring at the wall, which Audrey thought was an improvement. “I never know what the hell you think you’re doing.”

“I’m trying to help,” Audrey said. It was, as she’d told Duke, the one thing that she was perfectly certain of.

“Help who?” Jordan snapped. “Nathan? Crocker? There’s a whole town—”

“You think I don’t know that?” Audrey snapped. “I can’t do this alone. I need to save them because I _can’t_ do this without them. And don’t think I don’t realize that you’re talking about this to avoid talking about your trouble. I’m dating two of the most avoidant assholes on the planet; I know all the tricks.”

Jordan’s brows twitched. “Both of them? God, how do you even have time to fight troubles.”

“I’m a great multitasker,” Audrey said flatly.

“Evidently.” Jordan took a sip of her drink, not quite hiding a smile.

“Your trouble,” Audrey said. “Talk.”

“I liked Claire better.”

Audrey was proud that she only flinched a little at the sound of her name. Christ, she hadn’t really grieved. Audrey’s friendship with Claire was a fuzzier memory now, distant and detached from the Audrey she was now.

“Just talk,” She said, suddenly too tired to try and coddle Jordan’s delicate feelings.

Jordan rolled her eyes. “What’s there to talk about? Daniel attacked me; my trouble kicked in. I’ve been like this ever since.”

“Do you like it?” Audrey asked.

The hand shot towards her so fast, Audrey barely saw it, but an instinct older than any of the memories she had snapped into focus and she caught it centimeters from her cheek.

Jordan wrenched her hand away from Audrey. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe because you won’t explain it to me,” Audrey snapped back.

“I don’t _like_ hurting people. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“I don’t know. I think if someone hurt me, I’d want to have the power to hurt them back. I would want to know that I was safe, that no one could ever hurt me again.”

Jordan scoffed. “No one has ever hurt you.”

“You don’t know me,” Audrey said. “I have memories of being hurt. Of working as a waitress at truck stops, and men who thought that made me fair game. Of being the only woman in a bureau department full of men who didn’t think I was a person. But the worst thing isn’t what I remember; it’s what I don’t. Hundreds of years, I’ve been doing this every twenty-seven, and I have no idea what’s happened to me. I don’t even get to feel my own pain.”

Audrey let out her breath. She’d never allowed herself to say any of that. It felt like relaxing a muscle she hadn’t known she was holding tense to finally admit to those thoughts that kept her up at night.

“Wow,” Jordan said. She refilled Audrey’s glass, and even knowing that she’d had way too much already, Audrey drank. There was an air of solidarity in it, a cold comfort. “I can’t decide if that’s worse or not.”

“It’s not a competition,” Audrey said, exhausted.

“Yeah,” Jordan said. “Right. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to—” Audrey sighed. “Look, I just think maybe your trouble serves a purpose for you, even if you don’t know it.”

“And what? I just need to let go, and it’ll go away?” She asked with a brittle laugh.

Audrey wished she had better answers, easy answers. “I hope so.”

“And if I’m not fixable?”

“Then you’ll be cured when I figure out how to cure everyone,” Audrey vowed, because she couldn’t see Jordan—tough, intimidating Jordan—looking that small and helpless. She would do something about this. She would _solve_ this.

* * *

Nathan would have liked to have said that things were never weird with Duke before they’d had sex, but he knew it wasn’t true. The truth was that things had been weird in some way between him and Duke for so long that Nathan wasn’t sure what not-weird would feel like. For all he knew, the weirdness he felt right now was actually what they were supposed to normally feel like, but they’d had so much in the way for so long.

“Nathan?” Duke asked.

“Huh?” He looked up from whatever he’d been staring at.

Duke was sitting on the couch in the office again, his long legs bent strangely to sit that low. “Did you find anything?” Duke repeated. “About the weird guys?”

“Uh…” Nathan shook his head, trying to clear it. “No. Nothing yet.”

“What is the point of living in a police state if we can’t get anything useful out of it?” Duke huffed.

Nathan glared, but forced himself not to rise to the bait. “Whoever is doing this is being careful not to draw attention.”

“How’s he picking the troubled people?” Duke asked.

That was an interesting thought, but it led Nathan to one he hadn’t even considered. “How does he know what their troubles are?”

Duke looked up, his mouth falling open slowly in a way that made Nathan flashback to the night before, when his mouth had been around Duke, and—

He shook his head again. There were more important things to think about. There would be time later. There would be time.

“There was a ledger in the vault,” Duke said. “Audrey was reading it.”

“Could be more copies,” Nathan suggested. “Or… Never mind, it’s crazy.”

“What?”

“Who would know the most about the troubles?”

“Vince Teagues?” Duke suggested.

Nathan thought for a moment. “Not what I was thinking. That would be crazy though. What if… what if there’s someone who can create troubles?”

“I guess… something had to create them, in the beginning.”

“What if they came back?”

That fascinating muscle in Duke’s jaw flexed. “They wouldn’t be around long.”

Nathan had to agree with him. He thought of all the suffering they’d seen because of the troubles, all the people who’d died, everything they’d had to give up. He thought of Duke, probably thinking about his daughter, halfway across the country, who he’d never be able to see. Whoever created the troubles was the engineer of all their misery, and they deserved to be punished. If Duke decided this was a murder worth committing, Nathan wasn’t going to stop him; he was going to help. 

“Do you really think that’s what happening?” Duke said after a moment of tense silence.

Nathan sighed. “Don’t know. Hope not.”

Duke set whatever he’d been reading aside and stood up, crossing the room to lean on Nathan’s desk, crowding into his space in a way that—somehow—Nathan had once found annoying. Now he was only annoyed that Duke wasn’t closer, that they weren’t able to clear each other’s dark thoughts out completely.

“Are you scared?” Duke asked.

Nathan’s instinctive response was to stand, to snap that, no, he’d never been afraid. But he settled, searched. “Maybe,” He finally admitted. “I don’t want it to get worse.”

The best thing about Duke was that he didn’t have to explain what ‘It’ was. Duke always knew when he was talking about his trouble. Even when they were kids, when Duke had thought it was a superpower and Nathan would end up turning into superman, or that Magneto or Charles Xavier would show up to take Nathan away. ‘Take me with you,’ Duke had said back then, before they’d had any idea that he was much closer to superpowers than Nathan.

“It won’t,” Duke said quietly.

Nathan looked up at him, feeling helpless and stupid and childlike, desperate for reassurance in a way that he hated. “What if it starts to spread. What if you—”

He stopped because he couldn’t go on. He couldn’t bear to speak the possibility that Duke would get his trouble somehow. That all those times touching Duke, casually, just to prove he could still interact with a world that couldn’t interact with him, might result in making him suffer like this.

“Nate,” Duke said, his voice still quiet, so gentle Nathan wanted to push him away. He didn’t need pity—didn’t want it from _Duke—_ “That won’t happen. And if it does, you’ll teach me how to handle it.”

Nathan had learned everything about his trouble the hard way. He’d never wanted anything to do with his biological father, but it had occurred to him to think that it might have been nice to have someone who knew what the hell was wrong with him, and how to live with it. Duke would have that, if the unthinkable happened. And if that happened and Nathan found the one responsible? He didn’t have to be able to feel to choke the life out of someone.

But Duke didn’t have to know he was thinking that. “Yeah,” He said. “Of course I would.”

He stood up and leaned into Duke, imagining the heat, the solid muscle under his hands. It wasn’t enough, but it wasn’t nothing. In its place he could hear the way Duke breathed, slow and even, could smell his hair, which had no business smelling like a summer day spent on the beach when it was this cold, and he knew that Duke was holding him too, even though there was no point, because Duke had never changed his behavior towards Nathan, had never put up the barriers that so many other people—even Audrey, at first—had put up because of his trouble.

“Are you starting without me?” As if summoned by his thoughts, Audrey stepped into the office. “Because I’m drawing a line at fucking in the office.”

“You never let us have any fun,” Duke said good naturedly, as if they hadn’t just been talking about murder and troubles and every other awful thing.

Nathan knew he really shouldn’t think about the possibility they were describing, knew that if they actually tried it, Audrey would be absolutely right that it was a terrible idea, but as a fantasy? As a thought, having Duke or Audrey, preferably both, bent over this desk—

“Are we celebrating you finding something?” She asked, cutting off Nathan’s thoughts before they could get too out of control.

Duke laughed. “No, we’re celebrating Nathan’s short attention span.”   
“ _My_ short attention span? Remember that time—”   
“If you mention that right now, I’ll kick your ass.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Nathan said, and it felt strangely good to know that neither of them was putting heat behind their words and this wouldn’t escalate, and no one would get hurt.

“As much fun as it is to watch you flirt,” Audrey said, surprising Nathan, who hadn’t even realized that’s what he’d been doing. “I do have some information.”

“From?” Nathan asked. He’d been dying to know where she was going, but she’d walked off without explanation.

“Jordan,” Audrey said. “There’s been some talk, strange looking men hanging around, no one recognizes them.”

“Why were you talking to—”

“I didn’t think anything of it until she told me what they looked like.”

Nathan still wanted to ask why she’d been talking to Jordan, who, only that morning, had wanted to shoot them, but Duke spoke first.

“They were that weird looking?”

“Yes,” Audrey said. “But more importantly, they were in the barn with me.”

“What?”

“How is that—”

“One of them was big and scary looking, and he didn’t talk, and the other was small and creepy looking, and he talked like a serial killer. And they were in the barn with me.”

“Were they… real?” Nathan asked.

Audrey tugged at the end of her hair. “I didn’t think so. I thought they were like William, just another weird mind-metaphor or something.”

“Who’s William?” Nathan asked, momentarily sidetracked.

Her look indicated that she didn’t think very highly of jealousy, even if it was for some possibly fake barn-dweller. “He was the one in the barn who told me that I wasn’t who I thought I was, that I had to leave the barn. I never would have found the door without him.”

“So, he knew about all this stuff?”

“Yeah,” Audrey said. “Maybe he knows about the troubles, maybe he can explain what’s going on and why they’re changing?”

Nathan exchanged a look with Duke. He didn’t see any of his own envy reflected in his eyes, but he didn’t like the way that Audrey was talking about this guy. “Why was he in the barn?” He asked; his thoughts about the person who’d created the troubles weren’t far from his mind.

“Nathan, we don’t even know if he’s real yet. Maybe it’s just those guys.”

“Well, whoever they are, if they were in the barn, we should talk to them,” Duke said, cutting Nathan off before he could say anything.

“She said they’d been hanging around bars, acting strange. Last time anyone saw them was at that dive the fishermen hang out at after work, by the docks.”

“I know it,” Duke said. “Lot of big, weird looking guys drink there, Auds. Might not be your friends.”

“They weren’t friendly,” Audrey said, “And we have to at least try.”

“Alright, I’ll—”

“I’ll drive,” Nathan interrupted.

“Your car doesn’t have central heating,” Audrey reminded Duke.

“Right, because Nathan’s car is so reliable.”

Nathan glared at him. “Don’t talk about my car.”

“Does it still have the sticker?” Duke asked abruptly as they walked towards it.

He lost the fight with a small smile. “You know it does.”

Duke smiled, a little proud, a little nostalgic and Nathan’s heart warmed. How, he wondered, had they spent so much time at each other’s throats?

“Before we do this,” Duke said, as they paused while Audrey wrestled her hair into a ponytail. “What will we do if we find them?”

“Take them in for questioning,” Nathan said immediately.

“I don’t think you two should get too close to them,” Audrey pointed out. “We don’t know how whatever they’re doing works.”

Nathan thought back to the horrifying possibility of his trouble becoming contagious and shuddered. He wondered what would even happen to Duke and didn’t like where that path led. But his every instinct screamed at him not to let Audrey go alone. What if they took her? What if she disappeared and didn’t come back this time? He’d already had his share of miracles and then some; he would not get another. 

“Nathan,” Audrey said in the tone that meant she knew exactly what he was thinking and didn’t like it. “We talked about this.”

“Be careful,” he said weakly. Stepping closer, he pulled her against him. “Come back to me.”

She kissed him on the cheek, the same gesture that had been the first thing he’d felt in nearly two years. “I will. I promise.”

“It’s a dive bar, Nate,” Duke said, “Not a medieval dungeon. She’s immune to the troubles; they can’t do anything to her.”

Nathan knew he was right—knew that they both were—but as they got into the car and started driving, he was still glad she was armed, and glad that they would be within earshot.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very long. I make no excuses or apologies, it's just very long. I worked really hard on it and I'm very proud of it, so I hope you all like it. If so, please take the time to leave a comment telling me why, or just pointing out a line or moment you liked, it really means a lot to me. Thank you, and an especial thanks to Gendernoncompliant who was so supportive of this Very Long Chapter. Go read their fic Dance with a Devil on your back once you're done with this!

In the end, Nathan needn’t have worried, because they didn’t find their guys. The bar Jordan had told them about had been a bust, so they were back to square one scouring the case files they’d already been through dozens of times, looking for something that could tell them what was going on.

At least this time they’d opted to do it at Audrey’s apartment rather than the office. Even if they were just doing work, Nathan wanted to be alone with them, and the office—where Dwight or Stan were liable to walk in at any moment—didn’t really count.

Duke made dinner while Nathan and Audrey swapped files and argued about what exactly constituted a clue, and she told them about William.

“It’s all a little hazy now,” She admitted. “Even when I was Lexie, I barely thought about it, because I thought everything that happened in there was fake.”

“So, what exactly… happened, in there?” He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know.

Audrey gave him a disapproving look that reminded him a little of Sarah. “I was working at the bar, I had a… friend named Rhonda who also worked there. He came in and we started talking, and he told me I wasn’t who I thought I was, that the bar I worked at wasn’t real. I thought he was crazy and walked away.”

Duke set bowls of pasta in front of them and joined Audrey on the sofa. “Makes sense.”

“I was going to ignore him, but he was always there, talking about all this crazy shit—well, it seemed crazy then—and then these two guys came in.”

“The ones Jordan told you about?” Nathan asked.

She nodded. “They threatened him, but I pulled a gun on them and they left.”

“Where’d you get a gun?”

Audrey frowned. “I don’t remember. Does it matter? I made them leave and then I guess I started to believe what William was telling me, and he told me about the door. He got me out of that barn, he said that the people I loved would be waiting for me on the other side.” She smiled indulgently. “He was right.”

Nathan choked on the bite of food he’d taken. He wanted to say it back, but he was too busy coughing to get the words out, and they were laughing at him, and then the moment slipped by. Duke hadn’t said it either, and Audrey hardly seemed to realize how momentous her words had been, so possibly it was only significant to him, he wanted to tell them that he loved them, but the words stuck in his throat just as surely as the pasta had, so he let them stay there.

“I thought it was all a dream while I was in the barn,” She said. “Especially when you told me you hadn’t seen anything.”

Duke shrugged. “All I saw was white hallways collapsing into nothing. There was no bar, no people.”

“If they’re real, why didn’t Duke see them?” Nathan asked.   
“If they’re not real,” Audrey pointed out, “Why have people seen them in Haven?”

Nathan sighed. Neither of them was exactly wrong, but all they were doing was creating more questions and frustrating themselves with the lack of answers.

Perhaps it was a good time to lighten the mood. He’d been wanting to set work aside ever since they’d picked it up this morning, and they weren’t going to make any more progress tonight.

He moved the case file away.

“You know what else is bothering me?” Audrey asked, setting her already nearly empty bowl aside.

“Duke?” Nathan asked. “He’s bothering me.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re always bothering me.”

“Really?” Duke asked, standing up so he could lean over Nathan’s chair, crowding him into it. Nathan attempted a kiss, but Duke outmaneuvered him, moving to his neck, just underneath his ear. “Even now?”

He couldn’t feel it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know exactly what Duke was doing. He could picture it perfectly in his mind and somehow that made it even worse. Nathan squirmed further back into his seat.

“How about now?”

Nathan heard Duke’s nails scratch through his hair and that was almost as good as feeling it. He leaned back, this time just trying to get closer, as if his head might go at the right angle for him to actually _feel_ Duke’s hands on him.

“Nathan,” Duke said slowly, taunting, “Am I still _bothering_ you.” His hand trailed down over the front of Nathan’s jeans.

“Christ,” He ground out. “No. God, no, you’re not.”

“Good.” With that, Duke stood up and turned away, leaving Nathan as a shaking, needy mess in his chair.

Duke went back to Audrey, pulling her easily to her feet and into a kiss that Nathan was torn between wanting to watch and wanting to be a part of.

“Finally,” Audrey murmured. “I was starting to feel left out.”

“Can’t have that,” Duke replied with a smile, pulling her back in.

Nathan took that as his invitation to join them, and he stood on legs that weren’t quite steady. He pressed his lips against the curve of Audrey’s neck, amazed that the shock of sensation could still surprise him. Her skin was so soft and warm. God, he missed warm. He missed all of it. His teeth scraped against her neck and she gasped, leaning back into him.

Duke pulled her back, taking his turn to lavish kisses against Audrey’s lips, jaw, and neck. In the spirit of friendly competition, Nathan pulled Audrey back, ignoring her slight whine as she lost contact with Duke.

It turned into an only half-joking round of tug-of-war with Audrey as both winner and prize. Nathan wondered briefly what it would be like to be caught between her and Duke like this and doubted he would be able to handle it.

Audrey eventually pulled away, breathless and flushed. “We should… we have so much left to do.”

“Officer Parker,” Duke said slowly, “Please clock out now.”

She was about to argue, but Nathan cut her off. “Audrey’s right. We need to investigate.”

“What—”

“The very worrying trouble… in the bed.” He picked her up easily, carrying her towards the bed, and basking in her warm, indulgent laughter.

“Audrey, please tell me you are not letting him get away with that,” Duke protested. “That was horrible. That was a crime against sexy talk. That was—”   
“Well if you want to punish him, don’t join us,” Audrey said. “But if you want to _punish_ him, maybe you should.”

Nathan’s brain momentarily short-circuited. Somehow, despite the fact that he’d been carrying her to the bed, she ended up on top of him in it.

She peeled his shirt off and he closed his eyes, all the sensation momentarily overwhelming him to the point of a near-blackout. When he was cogent enough to do so, he reached for her, but she caught him by the wrists, pushing his hands back and pinning them to the bed. He rolled his hips up into her and she smiled.

Nathan opened his eyes so he could watch her. He would have felt anything she did, but he wanted to see it too. He looked across the room at Duke, letting his mouth fall open in a low moan as he rolled against Audrey again.

“You know, Audrey,” Duke said, slowly approaching the bed. “I think he’s trying to show off.”

Duke stood behind Audrey, reaching forward to undo the buttons on her shirt. He took his time, dragging the process out while Nathan watched, completely transfixed.

Leaning down, Duke nipped at Audrey’s ear. “Nathan likes to watch.”

A soft moan escaped Nathan, when he opened his eyes again, Audrey met them and slowly dragged her hand down the front of his pants. “He _really_ likes to watch.”

He bucked helplessly into her hand, even though he couldn’t feel it through the fabric. He watched as Duke trailed his lips down Audrey’s jaw and she stretched her neck up to offer him even more. It was beautiful to see them like that, and to know that they were doing it—at least partially—for his benefit.

Duke finally finished taking off Audrey’s shirt and let his hands slide across her skin. Nathan didn’t try to touch her again, but he knew what that skin felt like, and he could remember the feel of it under his palms, which were twitching to reach for her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Duke told her, and she smiled, putting her hand over his and guiding it to her breast.

“That’s perfect,” She murmured. Her voice got lower when she was like this, soft and silk-smooth, like the skin he still couldn’t stop thinking about touching.

But watching Duke touch her was almost as good. His hands were tanned and rough, enormous on Audrey’s small frame, and watching them was an exercise in contrasts. And _he_ was a part of it, and they wanted him here.

He bucked against Audrey again, not really meaning to, but he knew them both, knew that they could really drag this out if they wanted to. It wasn’t that he didn’t want this to last as long as it could—he would do this with them for the rest of his life if it were an option—but he wanted more. Duke was still fully dressed for god’s sake, if someone didn’t hurry them up wouldn’t get to the best part before sunrise.

“Mhm,” Audrey sighed, rolling languidly into Duke’s hands. “I think he wants something.”

“That so?” Duke said, looking at Nathan while he flicked one of Audrey’s nipples, drawing a soft gasp from her already parted lips. “What do you think he wants?”

“More,” Nathan said, looking down to see that he was already grinding helplessly against Audrey. “Please.”

“Hmm…” Duke said. “See, I thought this was supposed to be a punishment.” 

Nathan couldn’t hold himself back any longer, not when Duke was talking like that. He reached for Duke, who was just a little too far away, but didn’t mind when his hands settled on Audrey’s hips. It took barely any movement to undo the buttons on her jeans so that he was one step closer towards the goal of having them both naked and in this bed, sprawled in whatever configuration they managed. He didn’t care how, but he needed to be close to both of them.

“Come here,” He asked, less annoyed than he should have been that it sounded like a plea. He wasn’t sure what he would have said if someone had told him two weeks ago that he would be here, tormented and pleading with both of them. He probably would have called them crazy, but he would have carried the mental image into his fantasies for later.

But here it was, real, sharp and clear and perfect, and fuck it was not enough. Audrey slid off of him, ignoring his—slight and definitely dignified—whine. He didn’t mind the loss of contact when she pulled her pants off. Turning around, she pulled Duke’s shirt off.

It was a good view; Duke’s arms slid around Audrey and pulled her close, kissing her in a way that would have once made him jealous. Now, he was just waiting his turn.

Duke broke away from Audrey to smirk at Nathan, pulling off his shirt and dropping his pants before pulling Audrey back to him for another long kiss, this one intense and filthy.

Nathan was aching for them, he thought he was desperate to have them near him before, but after that show, he couldn’t bear it.

“Please,” He said, voice just barely breaking.

Duke moved away from Audrey to sit on the bed next to Nathan. He ran careful hands down his sides and Nathan watched in fascination. Slowly, Duke tugged Nathan’s pants off, ignoring his clumsy attempts to help.

Slowly, Duke started to stroke him, his eyes drifting closed when Nathan moaned. Just the sight of it was incredible; what, Nathan wondered, would it be like to feel him? To feel both of them at once?

Audrey sat on the bed, nudging Duke to the side. “I love to watch you tease him,” She said. “And sometime I’m going to do that all night, but I’m feeling impatient.” She straddled him, replacing Duke’s hand with hers before slowly sinking onto him.

It was everything. White hot and stars exploding behind his eyes and sensation so intense there was no comparison, no anything, because there weren’t words. There was nothing but her, and him, and then Duke whispering in his ear, things so filthy and beautiful that hearing them was its own sensation.

It was over embarrassingly fast, but he was with Duke and Audrey, which meant that he was safe. Neither of them laughed; Audrey slid off of him and kissed him quickly, not lingering because even that would have been intense bordering on painful. She left him in the middle but pulled Duke in for a kiss.

Duke reached between them, and Nathan watched his long fingers disappear inside Audrey, watched the way he played carefully with her clit, watched her bite her lip and jerk towards Duke.

“So beautiful,” He whispered, and he wasn’t even sure who he was talking to, or if it mattered. Duke’s face was twisted with concentration, studying each reaction and chasing it before he backed away and found a new tactic. Every time, Audrey let out a whine that Nathan hoped he could memorize. These were not sounds he’d ever have expected or been able to imagine from her, and god they were stunning.

After minutes of watching this, he was finally aware enough that he realized Duke was right next to him, hard and untouched. Nathan reached for him, stroking him a little cautiously at first. He gained confidence when he saw Duke’s perfectly controlled attention on Audrey falter.

Duke gripped the back of Audrey’s neck, pulling her into a hard kiss that Nathan just watched, but he adjusted his pace, going faster to match Duke’s intensity. Audrey moaned, shuddered, jerked her hips and finally collapsed, boneless on top of Nathan.

Nathan was still working on Duke, whose careful veneer was flickering. Nathan’s eyes were sharper than most people’s, and he knew Duke better than anyone, so he saw past the cocky smirk, saw the desperation in his eyes. He could tell Duke was close, could tell he wanted more.

“Ask for it,” He said, feeling that in this, at least, he had something to prove. Duke thought he couldn’t talk dirty? Nathan would prove him wrong. He smiled lazily up at Duke, stroking Audrey’s hair like he wasn’t completely focused on the motion of his own hand and what it was doing to Duke.

“Fuck, Nate,” Duke groaned and reached down, gripping Nathan’s hand with his own and adjusting the pace.

If he wanted whatever game this was to continue, Nathan knew he should stop him, but he cared more about Duke than about winning, and god Duke was beautiful when he was this close to the edge.

He fell apart with a groan that almost sounded like Nathan’s name, sighing as he sprawled across the bed, too fucked out to realize how much space he was occupying, and how little he’d left for Nathan and Audrey.

Audrey kissed Nathan’s cheek. “We should clean up.”

He smiled stupidly at her for a moment before he managed to string the words together in a way that would make sense and realized what she meant. “Right. Yeah.”

Her smile was affectionate as she stood up and crossed the room to the bathroom. Nathan joined her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, staring at their reflection in the mirror.

“Are you doing anything fun without me?” Duke called from the bed.

“Just cleaning up your mess,” Audrey replied cheerfully, handing Nathan a washcloth.

When they returned to the bed, Duke was slightly more aware of his surroundings. “Are we going to bed?” He asked.

“I am,” Nathan said. There was something exhausting about Audrey’s touch, like the extra brain power it took to register it was more than he had available. He loved it, but it left him feeling completely spent, even in small doses. After what they’d just done, he felt like he could sleep for days.

“Me too,” Audrey said. “It’s been a long day.”

She went to the dresser and put on pajamas. Nathan was glad he didn’t have to ask. As much as he loved being close to her and feeling her, it had made it hard to sleep last time.

Nathan went back to his position next to Duke, curling into his side so he could take in the way he smelled, which Nathan still thought was unfairly and unnaturally good.

Audrey climbed into bed on his other side and Nathan’s life suddenly felt solid in a way he didn’t think it ever had. He loved them, and they were with him, steady on either side, and nothing was powerful enough to change that.

* * *

Audrey woke up on the floor. She should have woken up, warm and content, between her boys, or at least next to one of them, but she woke up on the floor. Feeling left out was one thing, but them literally pushing her out of the bed was something that merited discussion, and she was about to roll over to gripe at them when exactly enough wakefulness entered her mind to realize that she hadn’t woken up on the bed because there was no bed.

And, more significantly, Nathan and Duke were nowhere to be found.

This was bad. This was, without a doubt, very, very bad. She stood up to look around more thoroughly and realized that her cozy little apartment was back to the wreck of a fishing-shed attic it had been when she’d first rented it. She added another point to the ‘bad’ column of the list that was growing in her mind, then added fifty more when she went outside and realized that the Gull was not the Gull, just some grimy-looking bait shop.

 _Duke will be livid,_ She thought. But first, she needed to find Duke so she could tell him. The sun was shining, but it was crystal-cold and the ground was still blanketed with snow from the blizzard, which would be a problem, because Audrey was still wearing only pajamas, and her wardrobe had gone the way of the rest of her furniture.

“No way out but through,” She muttered, stealing a pair of moldy rainboots from the porch—this was all trouble-induced and fake anyway—and started the long walk towards town, crossing her arms over her chest to conserve as much heat as possible.

It was a hell of a trudge, but she made it about a mile in the amount of time it took for the sun to rise fully, crossing from dawn to morning. She was just starting to wonder if she’d miscalculated and was about to freeze to death on the road when she saw a car.

It was a nondescript SUV, vaguely official-looking, but not one of the HPD cars she recognized. Certainly, it wasn’t Nathan’s. It stopped in front of her.   
“Ma’am?”

The question about why Duke would have stolen a police car was far outweighed by the relief she felt at hearing his voice. “Duke? Thank—”

“Do we know each other?” He asked, climbing out of the car to get a closer look at her.

Audrey felt her face drop. The Duke-alike watched her, his expression merely polite. Duke had looked at her a lot of ways in the time they’d known each other, but never like that. Never like she was just someone standing in front of him.

She swallowed hard around the unexpected lump in her throat. _What is this? What the hell kind of trouble can do this?_

“Ma’am?”

She looked up. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay? You look a little… lost.”

“I’m not lost,” She said. “I just have to… I need to find someone.”   
“Did you lose your dog or something?”

Audrey raked her hands through her hair, thick and tangled from her night with Duke and Nathan. “In a manner of speaking.”

He held out a hand, ignoring her unusual response. “I’m Detective Crocker, Haven PD. Can I give you a lift into town? Maybe back to the Freddy?”

“I’m not insane,” She said, but hearing Duke call himself ‘Detective Crocker’ made her feel like she was. This was not her world. This was not her Duke.

“Well, given that you’re walking down the street in your pajamas, no coat, in the snow, I would say that’s not a safe assumption. Please, at least let me give you a ride somewhere.”

If he was anything like her Duke, he wouldn’t give up until she’d agreed, so she nodded. He took off his coat and handed it to her. “You look like you need it.”

“Thanks.” She wrapped it around herself, strangely comforted to find that it still smelled like her Duke; maybe not everything was different.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked, and she got the feeling he was actually asking if she knew her name.

“Audrey.”

“And how did you know my name?”

“Um, reputation?”

He nodded, looking away from the road to study her face. “Interesting. And are you going to tell me why you were outside in your pajamas?”

She glared at him. “I like to leave a little to the imagination.”   
“Look, I know it sounds like I’m being a jerk, but I promise I’m trying to help.” For a moment, he looked like Duke, those kind, searching eyes and his soft tone.

“It’s a trouble,” She told him. “I think—”

“A what?”

 _No. Oh, no. Not…_ “The troubles? You know, the weird things that happen in Haven?”

He laughed. “Weird things in Haven? You sure you’re in the right town?”

Audrey sighed. “I’m definitely in the right town.”

Duke parked in front of a store. In her Haven it was her favorite bookshop, but here it looked like some kind of tourist trap souvenir racket. “Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

Ignoring his instructions, Audrey stepped out of the car, tugging fake-Duke’s jacket tighter around her.

“Who are you?”

Audrey groaned and turned towards Vince’s voice, noting with only mild interest that Dave was wearing a horrifying toupee, but they otherwise appeared the same. “Audrey.”

Who the hell would they be, she wondered, in this trouble-less Oz she’d fallen into?

“First vandalism, now homeless people?” Dave said.

“Granny would be rolling in her gave,” Vince agreed.

“I’m not homeless,” Audrey said.

They both looked her outfit up and down in a way that made her really think about how she must look, pajama pants, stolen rain boots, a t-shirt without a bra, and Duke’s enormous coat thrown over the whole getup. It was possible, she thought, that she did look like a homeless person, but she didn’t want to hear that from either of _them._

She shoved her hands into Duke’s coat pocket, finding both of them nearly full.

Duke emerged from the store and walked towards them. “Leave her alone, guys.”

“You should really speak to your father about the state of this place,” Vince said. “It’s going downhill and everyone can tell.”

Unamused, Duke nodded. “I’ll be sure to give him your complaints. Coming, Audrey?”

She nodded, hopping back into his car without thinking about where he would take her. At this point, she was just on a ride-along until she could figure out what whose trouble this was. But in a world without troubles, was that even possible?

He handed her the bag. “Seems like you need these.”

She pulled out a soft blue sweater, jeans, and a tank top. “Oh, um, thanks.” She climbed into the back while he pulled out of his parking spot. “Don’t look.”

She pulled the t-shirt over her head and tugged the tank top on, glancing up to see his eyes in the rearview mirror. She smiled. He might be a cop in this freakish universe, but he was still Duke.

Caught, he glanced away. “Can I take you to the hospital, please?”

“No. I have someone I need to find. By the way, what’s in your pockets?”

“Chocolate covered coffee beans,” He said, and she knew him well enough to know he was feeling slightly defensive. “I like snacks.”

She filed that information away, wondering if her Duke shared the affinity. Unfortunately, she would need to get her Duke back before she could find out. “Do you know Nathan Wuornos?”

He frowned. “Never heard that name.”

“Are you sure? He’s not your best friend? Worst enemy?” Her stomach churned uncomfortably. Surely this alternate Haven couldn’t just… erase him? But that had happened before. She remembered the Christmas trouble, remembered him vanishing in front of her.

“I don’t have… either of those, actually.”

“You… you really don’t know him at all?” She could imagine a Haven where she’d been erased. She could picture one where Nathan and Duke were dating, unaware of her existence. She could imagine one where they hated each other, where their rivalry was furious and dangerous. But she could not imagine a Haven where they were simply oblivious to each other. Did that mean Nathan was gone? Or was this brave new world even worse than she’d thought?

The radio crackled to life. “10-49 at Seaside, you got it, hon?”

Duke glanced back at Audrey.

“That’s a dead body,” She said. “You have to—”

“I know what it means,” He answered, studying her. “How do you?”

“Just drive.”

“On my way, Laverne.” He looked back at her. “Stay in the car, this could be dangerous.”

When they made it to the park, Audrey ignored him and got out.

“No, I said stay,” Duke said. “You’re a—”   
“Trust me,” She said. “I can help you with this.”

“I find that very hard to believe.” But he didn’t try to stop her as they walked towards the small crowd of officers around the yellow tape.

“Hi!”

Audrey startled and turned to see Nathan—this universe’s version of him anyway—bounding towards them.

He held out his hand with a goofy, lopsided smile. “I’m Dr. Hansen, temporary M.E.”

“Hansen?” Audrey asked.

He frowned a little, cocking his head like a confused golden retriever. “Yeah.”

That had so many implications Audrey couldn’t even begin to process. Thankfully, Duke saved her from saying something ridiculous by taking Nathan’s offered hand.   
“Nice to meet you, thanks for coming down.”

“Actually, we’ve met,” Nathan said, the same smile on his face. “You stole my lunchbox in the fourth grade. In fact, I’d like to file a complaint.”

Duke’s expression didn’t even flicker. Audrey was too horrified to form words or facial expressions.   
“I’m just kidding,” Nathan continued. “I like to kid. I’m a kidder.”

“I need to fix this,” Audrey muttered. It wasn’t that she thought Nathan’s stony silences were all that appealing, but who the fuck was this guy? Cop Duke was weird enough but this… this time the troubles had gone too far.

Duke gave her a strange look, but they’d reached the yellow tape, which sobered even Bizarre Nathan.

They let Nathan go to work first, and Audrey’s heart skipped a beat when she saw him check the man’s pulse; he could feel. Of course he could, it was a world without troubles, but it still struck Audrey. And Duke did look… lighter somehow. Without the burden of their troubles, who were they?

“Stabbed to death, been here a couple hours at most,” Nathan said, standing up. “No ID.”

Audrey stepped closer, ignoring the arm Duke put up to hold her back. “That’s Anson Shumway.”

Duke looked at her and she thought she saw suspicion in his eyes. “You know him?”

“I only met him once,” She said.

“Was he alive the whole time?” Nathan asked pleasantly. When he looked at Duke, his smile flickered, faded.

“Do you think I did this?” Audrey asked him.

Duke shrugged. “You show up talking about troubles and suddenly Haven has its first murder in three decades. Care to explain?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I did,” Audrey said. “But I didn’t hurt Anson, I promise.”

“Any proof for that?”

Audrey glared at him. “You found me on Coastal, a mile away from anything, heading towards town on foot, no coat. How could I have been here and gotten all the way out there in less than an hour and a half? Especially without anyone calling in about a suspicious wandering homeless person.”

Duke thought about that; she could practically see him doing the mental math. “That’s a good point. Strange that you know so much about Haven though, not being from around here.”

“Who says I’m not from around here?”

His gaze was intense, the most like Duke he’d looked this whole weird day. “I’d have noticed you by now if you lived around here.”

She was about to reply when she saw someone move over his shoulder. Someone with blond hair and sharp features, who was watching her with icy eyes.

Her jaw fell open and she darted around Duke, chasing after the man into the park, ignoring the trees and branches in her way, even as they smacked her face.

“William?” She called. It had been him, the man from the barn, she was sure of it. “William!”

Just as she was starting to slow, to give up this wild goose chance, she was grabbed from behind and pulled into a bush.

“Shh,” He whispered, one hand tight over her mouth. “It’s me. Let them go past.”

She heard Duke crashing through the trees, calling her name. He passed them, Nathan close behind him.

After a minute of silence, William released her. “Good to see you again, Lexie.”   
“Audrey,” She corrected, strangely feeling that he’d already known that.

“Good to see you, Audrey. You remember me?”

She nodded. “You were in the barn. I found them, you know, the people who were weighing on my heart.”

“How nice,” He said.

“They don’t remember me right now because of—wait… why do you remember me?” She asked. “No one I know has remembered me today. It’s some weird trouble that… wait, William, is this your trouble?” She hoped that was what was causing this wrong feeling in her stomach, that curdling itch that told her to be cautious. She pulled away from him, turning to face him.

“No,” He said. “I’m not troubled.”

“Someone has been changing people’s troubles,” She told him, trying to fight the discomfort. “Maybe even giving people new troubles, we’re not—” A dark stain on his coat caught her eye.

“I know,” William said.

“But…”

“Audrey,” He said, “Are you _sure_ you don’t remember me?”

“I remember you from the barn,” She said.

“And before that?”

“Before… are you from Haven?”

He shook his head, the same slow smile on his face. “I’m not from Haven.” He spoke like they were playing a guessing game and she hadn’t asked the right questions yet.

 _This_ , Audrey thought, _Is what Red Riding Hood felt like when she realized that her grandmother was the wolf._

“Who are you?” She asked. “Who are you, really?”

“That’s not the right question, Audrey. The question is who are _you,_ really? I have that answer.”

And then, like the wolf, he pounced.

* * *

Duke had been having a normal day. He’d been on morning patrol, one of his favorite brainless tasks, and everything had been perfectly ordinary until he’d met that crazy woman.

Now, he was trampling through the woods with the dumbest MD ever, trying to find a possibly mentally ill homeless person who seemed to have vanished in thin air.

“Do you think she did it?” Hansen asked, panting. “And that’s why she’s running?”

Her assessment of her alibi hadn’t been wrong. Unless they were going at a full sprint, it would be hard for someone to kill someone in Seaside Park and get all the way out to Coastal highway in less than two hours. Audrey hadn’t been dressed for that, and she hadn’t had blood on her clothes.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then why did she run?”

“She was looking for someone,” Duke said. “She must have seen him.”

“She told me his name was… something weird. Wuornos, I think. Nathan Wuornos.”

“That’s my name,” The doctor said cheerfully. “The first part, anyway.”

Ah. Nathan. That reminded Duke of the scrawny kid that had followed him around in grade school. He had grown up, but not grown any less annoying. He held a branch away from his own head and let it swing behind him, pretending not to notice when it hit Hansen, temporarily silencing him.

This was all too strange. Haven wasn’t strange. Haven had never been strange. Haven was a quaint, normal little town that hardly ever dealt with more than a noise complaint. There weren’t murders here.

It just wasn’t that kind of place.

His phone rang and he picked it up. The chief didn’t bother waiting for a hello. “What the hell is this I’m hearing about a murder?”

“Man was stabbed to death in seaside park. Tentative ID is Anson Shumway. That’s about all we know right now.”

“Get more.” The line clicked dead and Duke sighed, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“She’s not here,” He said. “And we have more important things to deal with right now.”

“We?” Hansen asked. “I’m a doctor, not a cop, I don’t really know what else I can do.”

“The autopsy,” Duke said. “I need more information. “And… maybe don’t mention the girl.”

Nathan’s smile returned with a fury. “A secret? Excellent. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Good.” He looked around, searching for a glimpse of her and finding nothing. “We should go back.”

Hansen followed him back to the crime scene. Duke knelt next to the body, searching for anything that might tell him what the hell was happening in his peaceful little town. He lifted Shumway’s hand carefully and saw a small vial of black goo glittering in the snow.

He held it out to Stan. “Bag this and get it printed.”

“Should I have the lab test the… whatever it is?”

Instinct made Duke say, “No. Keep it in house; maybe our guy will try to come back for it.”

Stan nodded and ambled off; his sense of urgency unaffected by the significantly more serious crime he was handling.

Duke dragged his hand through his hair, mussing the neat ponytail. _Great, yet another thing I’ll have to fix._ It had been a hell of a day, and it wasn’t even nine in the morning yet.

He should call Audrey in as a person of interest. He should tell everyone to be on the lookout for her, but he didn’t pick up his phone to make the call. There was something weird about the whole thing, and he needed to know more before he could do it.

They backed everything up and tried to shoo away the bystanders while a park maintenance person showed up to hose away the bloody snow. Duke didn’t follow Hansen’s van to the hospital, instead choosing to return to his office to be chewed out by the chief.

His father’s lecture was fairly standard. Duke should have called him before going to the crime scene, Duke should have known better than to think he knew how to handle this, and the usual vague insinuation that Duke should start looking for another job. When it was over, Duke returned to his office and stared blankly at the other desk.

It had never occurred to him to wonder why there was a second desk. As far as he knew, there had never been any reason to have more than one detective in Haven, but there it was sitting there by the window.

Having a partner would be nice. He thought about Audrey—why was she always so close to his thoughts? —who had acted almost more like a cop than he had when they’d gone to the crime scene. He wished she was with him.

Still, she’d given him something to work with. He pulled out his computer and searched Anson Shumway’s DMV record. The ID photo was a perfect match, and the address told him that he lived in an apartment off Main Street. Slightly more digging told him he was divorced from his wife, but still active in his daughter’s life. Even more digging turned up absolutely no reason for the guy to be stabbed to death in a park on a perfectly ordinary morning.

Two hours later, Duke had absolutely nothing, so getting a call from the hospital lab telling him that Hansen was done with the autopsy was a relief; if nothing else it was something to do.

“Not much to report,” Nathan said. “Stabbed three times with a hunting knife, died from blood loss.”

“Anything else?” Duke asked, trying not to sound desperate.

“Tox screen was clean except for his anti-anxiety meds. They were prescribed by a therapist, Dr. Claire Callahan.”

Duke nodded. “Maybe she knows what he was doing walking around that early in the morning.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be more help,” Hansen said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.” Duke stared at Hansen’s notes, which had nothing to report. The knife was standard, easily available at every hardware or hunting supply store in the state.

He returned to his office silently lamenting his complete lack of progress. He picked up the phone, about to call the therapist or the lab, anything for an update, but didn’t even make it to dialing the number.

“Hey, uh, Duke?” Stan said. “There’s a guy in interrogation one, says he needs to talk to you because he’s guilty?”

“Of what?” Duke asked.

“He didn’t say, just said he needed to talk to the detective.”

Somehow, Duke found it hard to believe his murderer had just decided to show up and apologize. He made his way to the room and saw a terrified, sweaty man fidgeting in the chair.

He looked up, his face falling when he saw Duke. “You’re not her.”

“Not who?” He asked.

“The… the woman, the one who helps people. She’s supposed to work here but everything’s different.”

“Slow down. What are you talking about?”

“It’s a trouble,” The guy said, as if that explained anything. “I made a wish, and it changed everything, and I wasn’t going to say anything because it’s better and she’s safe, but my dad said there’s a cost and now this guy is dead and—”

“Slow. Down.” Duke repeated. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The troubles,” The guy said. “I erased them.”

Troubles. That was the same word Audrey had used. She had said that they were weird things that happened in Haven, and that this—whatever that meant—was one of them. “What are the troubles?”

“They’re like… magic curses that people in the town have. I made them go away, but now the world is different.”

Duke leaned back in his chair, pushing two of the legs off the ground and balancing there. “That sounds insane.”

“I know,” The guy said. “That’s why I came here. I wanted to find the detective lady that helps everyone. I thought she’d be able to fix it.”

He thought about Audrey knowing the radio code. He thought about how at ease she’d been looking at a dead body. He thought about the fact that she had known his name.

“This is insane,” He repeated, but not because he didn’t believe it.

“This is how Haven is,” The guy insisted. “Ask the detective lady. Ask her—”

“She’s not a detective,” Duke said, but he wasn’t certain that was true. He wasn’t certain of anything. “And anyway, she’s missing.”

The man’s eyes went wide. “What? You have to find her! We’ll all die without her, she’s the only one who can stop them!”

“If anything you’ve told me is true,” Duke said. “It sounds like you stopped the troubles.”

Stan watched him walk out. “Anything?”

“Keep him there. I may need to talk to him again.”

He wanted to skip the stupid ‘human in a supernatural movie googles the monster’ scene, but his curiosity was stronger than his aversion to clichés, so he looked up ‘troubles’ and found some interesting but irrelevant information about the conflict in Northern Ireland in the nineties.

“It’s crazy,” He said, but he was already grabbing his spare jacket off of the coatrack and heading towards the door. He had to find Audrey.

He retraced his footsteps out to the park, into the thicket she’d disappeared in. He circled around, searching for footprints that might have been hers, searching for anything useful. He found a couple pairs eventually, one of them small enough to be hers, but lost them near a thick, tangled bush.

He knelt down to study it, his mind wandering. He almost missed the thing on the ground, but when he picked it up, he smiled.

Chocolate covered coffee bean. His pockets had been full of them, Audrey must have dropped this one.

A couple steps away, a few feet from where he’d looked previously, he found another. Another a few feet further than that. This wasn’t a couple of things falling from his pocket by accident; she was dropping them.

She wanted him to find her.

He pulled out his phone. If this was a kidnapping, he needed backup. He could tell his father, but that would be its own wealth of problems, which meant that official backup was out. He thought about friends he might call and couldn’t name one that would do something like this for him. Stared at his screen for a long moment and finally sighed and dialed.

“Hansen.”

“Hey, Doc, look, this is going to sound weird, but I need your help with something.”

“You got it, what can I do?”

God, he really was obliging, wasn’t he? “That girl you met earlier? Audrey? I think something happened to her. Can you meet me in the woods where she disappeared earlier?”

Nathan showed up twenty minutes later. “You’re not going to arrest me for speeding, right?”

Duke ignored him. “She left a trail, makes me think something happened to her.”

“And you want me…”

“You already know about her, and anyway, I might need you if she’s hurt.”

He expected Hansen to balk, but Duke was pleasantly surprised when he nodded. “Which way?”

Duke pointed out the trail of coffee beans, next to a pair of nondescript boot tracks. “She went this way.”   
“What if it’s a trap?” Hansen asked as they set off.

“People set traps when they want something,” Duke answered, not looking up from the blinding snow. “I think this guy already has what he wants.” 

Hansen didn’t reply as they followed the tracks until they made it to a very small shed.

Duke gestured to him to get down and approach quietly, drawing his gun.

“—Was planning on tracking down all the reality warpers, back in the day we only gave that to a couple people—learned that the hard way—I figured there could only be so many still around.” That was a man’s voice. Duke didn’t recognize it.

“Stop saying ‘we’,” Audrey snapped from inside. “You’re lying. I didn’t do that.”

“And I’m telling you, we did. We created them—”

“Why? Why would I do that?” Duke’s heart rolled over in his chest; it sounded like she was crying. He wasn’t entirely sure why he cared so much, but he was fighting the urge to crash through the shed wall and start shooting.

“Because we wanted to. Because we _could_. And we can again, you just need to remember.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Audrey said, and Duke’s heart did a weird, affectionate double-beat that made no sense.

The man sighed. “I really thought this would be easier. There will be time to figure that out after we leave this hellscape of an alternate universe. First, I need you to find the troubled person that did this. I don’t have the list memorized, you know.”

“I’m not going to help you; you’ll kill them like you killed Anson.” 

“There are things in the real world that I need, Audrey—god, it feels weird to call you that. Are you sure I can’t call you Mara?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Duke pressed his back against the wall of the shed. This guy had Audrey and he was after the troubled person who was, as far as Duke knew, still sitting in his interrogation room.

Next to him, Nathan looked both scared and lost. He was following the conversation without the background Duke had, which was already minimal.

“Help me, Audrey. Don’t think of it as leading me to a victim, think of it as… saving all the others. That’s what you like to do, isn’t it?” Duke couldn’t see the guy, didn’t know what he looked like, but he could perfectly picture the smarmy, dickish smirk on his face.

“Did ‘go fuck yourself’ not make any sense to you?” Audrey snapped, and Duke wanted to cheer her on. “I’m not helping you. I wanted to cure the troubles and save everyone. This is the next best thing.”

“And what about your precious police officer?”

Duke’s heart did the flip thing again.

“Or the criminal? Not sure which I should be asking about, you sure get around.”

“Go—” Audrey took a deep breath, apparently rethinking her words. “They’re safe. They’re happy. I won’t take that from them just because I miss them.”

“Hmm… And what if they weren’t safe? Would you help me then? Because that’s what’s at stake, Little Audrey Overlay; if you don’t help me, I’ll kill everyone you care about. And they’ll never even know why. Do you think your cop and your crook will die for you in this world?”

“Leave them alone!” Duke heard the sound of furniture rattling against the wooden floor.

“Don’t worry; I’ll save you some pieces. Maybe you’ll be more cooperative when I come back.”

Duke grabbed Nathan and pulled him back further behind the shed, out of view, just in time for the man to barge out of the shed. He stormed away towards the road.

As soon as he was out of sight, Duke ran for the door. Audrey was tied to a chair, tugging at the knots, her eyes more furious than scared.

He holstered his weapon and ran in to help her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m pissed,” She said.

Nathan followed him in. “Are you hurt?” He checked her wrists, his hands careful in a way that caught Duke’s attention, even if he couldn’t place why.

“I’m fine, Nathan,” She insisted, slightly exasperated. “We have to go after William, he’s trying to kill—”   
“A guy who’s currently at the police station,” Duke told her.

She smiled. “You already found him?”

Her smile was so disarming he almost took the credit, but his conscious caught up with him. “He turned himself in; he was looking for you.”

The smile faltered. “Oh. If he’s at the station, it’s only a matter of time before William finds him. He’ll go looking there for…”

“Me?” Duke guessed.

“We should go,” Nathan interrupted, and Duke nearly snapped at him for ruining the moment. “He might come back and I have a lot of questions.”

Audrey smiled affectionately at Nathan. “I’m sure you do. There’s no time to answer any of them, though. You’re right; we have to go.”

“Audrey,” Duke said, surprised at how familiar the name already felt on his tongue. “What he was saying about—”

For the first time, something like guilt flickered across her face. “There’s no time.”

She left the shed and Duke followed her back the way they’d come. She stared at the bland sedan parked next to Duke’s SUV. “Is that yours?” She stared at Nathan.

“Yes?”

“Oh. Wow. Um, never mind.” She climbed into Duke’s car.

He turned to look at Nathan. “You don’t have to come with. I think Audrey and I can take it from here—”

“I’m coming,” Nathan said quietly. Duke wondered if the same, vague familiar feelings had been plaguing him as well, if maybe in the other world, Audrey’s real world, Nathan was the criminal William had mentioned.

Duke didn’t believe in destiny or fate, but there was something about all this that felt intentional somehow. It was supposed to be him, Nathan, and Audrey dealing with this mess.

On the drive over, he filled Audrey in on what little he’d found. “He had some strange goo in his pocket. It’s at the lab, but I don’t know what it was.”

“Was it black?”

He nodded. “Why?”

“It could be how he makes the—Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”

“Later?”

She smiled sadly at him and he desperately wished he knew what was happening in her head. “It’s not important right now. We need to get to your guy.”

They walked confidently into the station, ready to talk to the guy Duke had dismissed as crazy only hours before.

There was an odd energy in the station when they got there, in retrospect, Duke should have recognized it immediately, but then, he’d never been in a hostage situation before, or an ambush.

Those kinds of things just didn’t happen in Haven.

It was Stan, brave, kind, stupid Stan, who tried to be the hero. “Duke!” He pointed at William, who had already pulled the trigger.

Stan hit the ground, slumped and still and covered in blood.

Duke drew his weapon on William, but he was hiding behind the trembling and terrified troubled man, a gun of his own—a stolen service weapon by the look of it—pointed at Duke.

“What’s it going to be, Audrey?” William asked. “Him or them?”

“Let him go, William,” Audrey said, her voice a perfected calm. “We should talk about this.”

“Is that line from the handbook?” William asked. “They should have taught you that it doesn’t work.”

He pulled the trigger. Maybe he did it a few times. Duke wasn’t really sure of anything because the world was tilting around him, and he was falling. He put a hand to his chest and it came back blood slicked. A lot of blood.

Audrey was screaming. That snapped his attention upwards. She was scared. He barely knew her, but she didn’t get scared. Couldn’t. She was… she was brave.

“Duke, look at me.” She was holding his hand, the bloody one. She would have blood all over her. “Duke?”

Nathan was saying something, he sounded like a doctor. _That makes sense,_ Duke thought, _He is a doctor._ But he wasn’t, not really.

Duke’s head hurt. Had he hit it when he’d fallen? He closed his eyes against the pain.

“No! Duke, look at me,” Audrey snapped, “You have to—”

Duke didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. The world went black. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, and after everything, he supposed maybe that made sense.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late, I don't have any excuses except that life is a nightmare. Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner. These are hard times for everyone, but please, if you like this fic, leave a comment. I could really use the positivity right now. Many thanks to Ashe, you are wonderful and this damn thing wouldn't exist without you.

When a trouble like this one ended, it wasn’t like waking up. It also wasn’t like anything else, so for all intents and purposes, Audrey woke up panicked and sick in her own bed, next to her boys.

Both of her boys, who were breathing easily and not bleeding at all. Still she grabbed Duke’s shoulder and rolled him over to make sure. His chest, which moments ago had had a hole in it, was perfectly intact and beautiful. She threw her arms around him, her full weight on him.

“Hey,” He whispered, stroking her hair. “Are you okay? Auds, look at me, what happened?”

Her face was wet, which she was sure was only residual from when he was dying. It was appropriate to cry when one of your partners died.

“Audrey?”

“You’re okay.” She kissed him hard.

He didn’t protest, but he also didn’t push the kiss any further. His hands were still stroking down her hair, soothing.

“I’m fine, Audrey, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Mrruph, you’re starting without me,” Nathan grumbled, probably still asleep, from the other side of the bed.

Audrey smiled tearfully at him. He wasn’t a goofy doctor anymore. He was Nathan, sleep-rumpled and sweet and _hers._

“Did you have another nightmare?” Duke asked quietly, leaning away from her to look more closely. “Why are you dressed?” His eyes got even wider. “Holy shit, is that blood? Audrey—"

She looked down. She was still wearing the jeans and sweater his alternate universe self had picked out for her, and his blood still stained it, even though he wasn’t bleeding anymore. “There was a trouble,” She said.

“Why didn’t you wake us up?” Duke asked. “We would have helped.”

“You did help,” She said around the lump in her throat. “Duke, you helped so much. Thank you.” She held his face in her hands. “Thank you.”

“Wss going on?” Nathan murmured.

Duke poked him in the chest. “Wake up, something happened.”

Nathan’s eyes were still closed, so he didn’t notice the poke, and Audrey doubted words were registering with him.

Duke untangled his arms from around Audrey and clapped right next to Nathan’s ear. Nathan sat up. “Fuck! What?”

Despite everything, Audrey laughed, some of the nauseous tension letting out of her chest.

Nathan rubbed his eyes and looked at her. “What happened? Why are you dressed? Is that—”

“There was a trouble. We… it created a different world.”

She told them, slowly, haltingly, everything that had happened. She stopped when she got to the part with William and the shed. Could she tell them? She had to but… what would they think?

“He told me… he told me I created them.”

“Created what?” Nathan asked; he’d never been a morning person.

“The troubles,” She said. “I, well… both of us. William and I created the troubles.”

“Not you,” Nathan said without a second’s hesitation. “Whoever you were before created the troubles, not you. Not Audrey or Lexie.”

Duke was silent, and for once Audrey didn’t want to know what he was thinking. “But that’s who I was originally. The real me. She created the troubles. She did this to everyone, to you.”

“That’s not who you are anymore,” Nathan insisted. “And you don’t want to be that person. What she did doesn’t matter, what you’ve done matters, and you, Audrey Alexandra Parker, have helped so many people.”

“They wouldn’t have needed help if I hadn’t started all this though. If someone plants a bomb does it matter that they help clean up?”

“It does if you don’t remember doing it! Tell her, Duke!”

Duke didn’t say anything. Audrey couldn’t look at him anymore. Nathan’s stubborn loyalty was painful, but Duke’s heavy, inscrutable silence was so much worse. He must hate her, the architect of his misery. She deserved that, deserved to lose him so soon after having him. This was the real punishment, almost as bad as watching him die.

“Is that why you were upset?” Duke asked.

She wished he would yell at her, call her every awful thing under the sun, hate her forever. Anything would be better than quietly, resignedly, changing the subject.

“No. After… he told me, he threatened you. He said that he would find you both and kill you, and everyone else I care about in Haven, unless I brought in whoever caused the trouble.”

Audrey told the rest in broad strokes, how they’d gone to the police station and William was already there, probably looking for Duke, but he’d found the troubled guy instead. How William had shot Duke and the troubled guy without blinking. How she had watched Duke die until it had finally gone away.

“And then I was here. None of it had happened.” She looked at Duke, searching for anything in his face, even if all she found was loathing it would be better than nothing.

“He shot me?” Duke asked.

She nodded.

“Remind me to bring a bigger gun when we go after him.”

“Go… We can’t go after him! Not after—”

“He’s the one messing with troubles, and if he can make them and change them, I bet he can unmake them.”

“Where do the guys from the barn fit into this?” Nathan asked, standing up and shuffling around to make coffee and get dressed.

“He told me they were his ‘helpers’,” Audrey said with a shudder. “I don’t think I even want to know what that means, but I’m sure they’ll be there if we go—”

“We have to go,” Duke said. “But I didn’t say we have to go alone. We’ll bring Dwight and whoever else he thinks he can trust—”

“Duke, he _shot_ you,” Audrey said, her voice catching in her throat. “I watched you… please, can’t we just think about it?”

“In the time it takes us to think, he might retrofit another trouble that could stop us. We have to go.”

This time, there was no arguing about whose car they were taking. They climbed into Nathan’s without discussion and started driving to Seaside park.

They called Dwight on the way. He answered without hesitation and told them he would be there with whoever else he could get. It occurred to Audrey that she really needed to take the time to thank him, assuming they all survived this.

The park was snowy and silent when they got there, and Audrey shuddered when she remembered the way it had looked buzzing with cops, all of them hovering around Anson’s body like carrion flies.

Somehow, Dwight was already waiting there with Jordan when they got there. This did nothing to lift the heavy discomfort Audrey was walking with, but she had to push past it.

“It’s that way,” She said, pointing towards the less landscaped, more wooded part of the park.

As the others walked away, Duke grabbed her arm. “Audrey—”

“It’s okay,” She said, knowing she was brushing him off. She just couldn’t handle him telling her he couldn’t be with her. “I understand. What I did—”

“Wasn’t you,” Duke said. “I need time to wrap my head around it, but… that wasn’t you. You hate the troubles as much as I do, and you would never hurt anyone.” His smile turned soft. “Just don’t add whoever she was to your personality, okay?”

Audrey smiled, swallowing hard around a lump in her throat. “Between the two of me, I think I have enough strength to fight her off.”

“I know you do.” He bent down and kissed her.

She would have liked to have thrown her arms around him and deepened it, but they had so much to do. “I love you,” She told him; when they survived this, she would make sure he knew.

Duke’s smile melted even further. “Yeah.”

“Coming?” Nathan called from further ahead.

“We better make sure he doesn’t get himself killed again.” He turned to follow him, and Audrey had to run to catch up to them.

The shed was as she’d remembered it, a dark, ugly little hut in the middle of the park, and she shuddered. It felt like only a couple hours ago that she’d been tied to a chair in there. She had thought she was alone. For all she knew, Duke thought she was a crazy person, Nathan was a stranger, none of the many friends and allies she’d made in Haven would have even noticed she was gone.

She didn’t want to be back here. Any of the people they’d brought would be in the line of fire, and Audrey had caused enough death in Haven. This time, she was going to finish it. If that meant killing William before they got answers, then she would have to live with that.

They surrounded the shed. Duke had a shotgun on his back, but he was holding a knife. Dwight was carrying a crossbow, Nathan had his gun on his hip, but appeared to be ready to go in with just his fists, which brought Audrey’s heart to her throat. Everyone else carried a random assortment of weapons, including Jordan who was wielding what looked like a machete.

Everyone here, she realized, was troubled.

Everyone here had suffered in some way because of what she’d done. She thought of her tentative peace with Jordan; it would shatter as soon as Jordan found out. It was tempting to start mourning what would never be, grieving the loss of trust that she’d tried so hard to build. There wasn’t time, though. Not now.

Dwight went through the door first, looking and acting like the cop he shouldn’t have had to be. Nathan and Duke followed, motions effortless and uncommunicated; they knew where the other would be, and filled the remaining space, watching the other’s back like they’d been doing it for decades.

Her heart was in her throat when she followed them in. The troubled man was dead in the same chair she’d been tied to.

“This was an execution,” Dwight said grimly.

“He was troubled,” Audrey said. “He created an alternate reality without troubles. William killed him to stop him from doing it again.”

“And then what?” Jordan asked. “Where did he go?”

Duke shrugged. “Anyone’s guess.”

“Looks like he dropped this,” Nathan said, holding up a small vial of black goo.

Audrey took it from him, drawn to it in a way she didn’t understand and wasn’t sure she wanted to. “He left this at the crime scene in the other Haven too.” She looked at Duke. “You found it and sent it to the lab, but you didn’t know what it was before…”

“Before William shot me?”

Jordan cracked a smile. “You got shot? Damn, I’d have liked to see that.”

Duke rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored her. “So what do we think this stuff is?”

Audrey rolled the vial over in her hands. “I think it might be whatever he’s using to change the troubles. It’s the same color as the handprint, except this doesn’t glow.”

“So, whatever he does is like some kind of chemical reaction that changes troubles and makes this stuff… glow?” Dwight asked.

“Best guess,” Audrey said ruefully. “We need to find William.”

“Actually,” Nathan said, “It’s more likely William will find us, now that we have his… whatever that is.”

“Bait him into a trap?” Dwight said, more than a little skeptic.

“It’s not a bad plan,” Audrey said, thinking it over. She had considered offering herself as bait and—if this stuff was less valuable than she thought—she might still have to, but she liked the idea of taking herself out of the line of fire if possible.

“Are you kidding?” Duke said. “It’s a horrible plan—”

“It’s a better plan than waiting around for him to amplify another trouble,” Nathan jumped in. “Or kill you again.”

“Wait, he _killed_ you?” Jordan laughed. “I might be on the wrong side.”

The others all looked horrified, but Audrey just rolled her eyes. “Well he’s immune to your trouble and hung up on me, so he’s definitely your type.”

Nathan choked. There was a long beat of silence before Jordan cracked a smile. “That was a low blow.”

Audrey acknowledged this with a shrug before changing the subject. “Good or bad, it’s the only plan we have. We lure him in and trap him.”

“And then what?” Dwight asked. “We still have no idea who he is or why he’s doing this.”

Oh. Right. Audrey sighed. Nathan and Duke were both watching her, tense with warning. She could tell they didn’t want her to say anything, but she looked at Jordan and Dwight and knew that they deserved answers.

“He wants me to remember who I used to be—”

“What, before Audrey?” Jordan asked. “Wasn’t that already happening?”

“Before that. Before all of them. He wants me to remember who I was first.”

“Why?” Dwight asked.

This was the hard part. This was the part there was no turning back from. Duke and Nathan both stepped closer to her, not quite touching. “Because we created the troubles together.”

After a long pause, it was Jordan who spoke first. “What the fuck?”

“Haven’t the troubles been around for hundreds of years?” One of Dwight’s guys asked.

Audrey sighed. “I know it sounds crazy—”

“No, you saying you’re two combined personalities is crazy, this is nuts,” Jordan said. “ _You_ created the troubles?”

“Technically, whoever I was first created them,” Audrey said. “I don’t remember doing it.”

“Would she know how to stop them?” Dwight asked.

“We were hoping we could ask William about that. If there is something that I can do—”

“You’ll do it, yeah, I’ve heard this song,” Jordan said. “Why did you—”

“I don’t know,” Audrey said, hating the answer. “I don’t remember any of it.”

“So… what are you?” Trust Dwight to ask the practical questions.

“I’m Audrey,” She said. “Other than that… no idea.”

“Not human though?”

She shrugged. “Apparently, I’ve been alive for six hundred years, showing up here every twenty-seven, after which, I go into a magic barn that erases my memories and gives me someone else’s. So, yeah, I might not be human.”

Dwight shrugged.

There was a heavy silence, but Audrey had no idea how to fill it. Should she apologize?

“So, are we going to set a trap, or what?” Duke said. If she had known him a little less well, she might have believed he felt as comfortable as he was acting.

* * *

They returned to the station to start getting ready for William. Nathan found ways of clearing out as many people as he could. Stan, uncharacteristically aware of tension, stubbornly refused to leave and started wordlessly helping with the process of fortifying the bullpen.

As much as Nathan wanted him to get as far away from this as possible, as much as Nathan thought this was a fight for troubled people, he couldn’t find it in himself to force Stan out, so their ragtag little party got one more person.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t difficult work. They cleared furniture out of the way and locked the guns up downstairs. There was no way to know if William would be armed, but they had to take every precaution to keep Dwight safe, since he insisted on being there.

It was all activity until it wasn’t.

Suddenly, Nathan looked around and there was nothing to do, and he was forced to recognize that they’d done everything, and that it was time to make the call. Audrey and Duke stood behind him, which made his breath come just a little easier. When he reached for the receiver, he saw that his hands were shaking, and could only wonder how his stomach was feeling.

He swallowed, took a breath, forced himself to sound normal. “All call, mysterious substance found at the crime scene, we’re holding it at the station, be on the lookout for more.”

He and Dwight had already told all the guys to expect the call and not to do anything about it. Everyone in the department had been working there long enough to know that sometimes they would see and hear weird things on the job, and they had all learned to shrug it off in their own ways.

Sometimes Nathan wished he could too.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw Duke put his hand on his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, wishing there was more comfort in it.

“It’ll be alright,” Duke said into his ear.

“Yeah, of course,” He replied. They had to hold it together for Audrey, who was more shaken than he’d seen her since she’d realized she was Lucy Ripley.

She hadn’t left Duke’s side, shadowing him and pretending it was just to help. Nathan didn’t envy her the memory of watching Duke die. She’d seen him die once to, and Nathan hoped both of those would be the last time for her. He couldn’t imagine what that would be like, looking at both of them and knowing what they would look like as corpses.

When he’d lost them, they’d only been gone. No bodies to bury, no proof they’d even been there, but the signs of life had been everywhere. Audrey’s desk, her apartment, Duke’s boat, which Nathan wouldn’t admit to having visited, just to make sure she was okay.

In the months they had been gone, those things had breathed to Nathan. He had sat on the deck of the _Rouge_ , listening to the sounds of the ancient wreck of a boat and imagining that some of them were Duke’s footsteps. With his eyes closed and Duke’s smell all around him, it could be true. Audrey’s apartment was different. He could barely bear to look at it, much less climb the steps to be around her things. Her apartment didn’t have a smell the way Duke’s boat did. When he was there it smelled empty and was too quiet. There was no way for him to imagine that she might be there, somehow, just out of sight.

He was not going to let that happen again. He didn’t give a fuck who this William thought he was. Audrey was theirs, and Nathan would be damned before he let anyone change that again.

Now that the call was out, there was nothing to do but wait, which Nathan had never been good at. Audrey paced and he followed her, not sure if it was because he was scared to let her out of his sight or if he felt the same frenetic need to keep moving that she did.

Duke had never been like that. He was his same, still, steady self despite the storm coming their way. He sat on a table, long legs half-folded underneath him, watching them.

Nathan froze, tripping slightly over his feet when Jordan joined Duke on the table. He jerked towards them, but Audrey caught him, tugging him away.

“She’s fine,” Audrey said. “Trust me.”

Of course he trusted her, but it was weird enough that Jordan and Audrey seemed to have developed some kind of odd friendship; Duke would be even worse. The idea of the two of them sitting around swapping embarrassing stories about him made him want to be sick.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” He asked Audrey.

She gave him a look like she was about to tease him, but apparently thought better of it. “I don’t know. I think Jordan’s trying to turn over a new leaf. No idea why she would start with Duke, but just give her a chance.”

Nathan didn’t like it, but he trusted Audrey, and nodded. It was the right thing to do, letting Jordan try to reach out and find support, the right thing to do to let Duke have the chance to interact with other troubled people, but Nathan still resumed his pacing just close enough for his unusually sensitive hearing to catch the conversation. 

“May I remind you, he killed me,” Duke was saying; they must have been talking about William. 

Jordan snorted. “Like I said, I’d like to see that.” Nathan flinched, reconsidering going over there.

Duke was characteristically unfazed. “Keep your eyes open, you might still get to.”

They were silent for a moment, and Nathan considered moving away, until Jordan spoke again. “I wonder what it was like, Haven without the troubles.”

“Somehow almost as fucked up as this one, I think,” Duke replied, and Nathan found himself thinking about the cop version of Duke Audrey had described. He never would have admitted that it bothered him that alternate universe Duke might have been a better cop than he was. “Still, might have been simpler.”

Jordan shrugged and studied the floor. “At least yours isn’t that bad.”

“It’s not good either.”

“At least you can avoid using it,” She snapped.

“I try to.”

Guilt twisted inside Nathan. Duke did try to avoid using his trouble, and Nathan had never given him credit for that. At every turn, Duke had been reasonable and cautious, and Nathan had met him with nothing but suspicion and anger.

God, there was so much to apologize for. Would he ever be finished atoning for his sins against Duke?

He thought about last night, his hand wrapped around Duke, the way Duke’s face had looked, open with pleasure, and hoped that maybe he had started.

“Are you eavesdropping?” Audrey smiled at him, a little exasperated, a little indulgent.

“Just making sure he’s okay.”

She raised an eyebrow and he looked away, aware that her judgement was accurate and deserved.

“Sure you’re not making sure they aren’t talking about you?”

“You sound like Claire,” He said.

Audrey flinched a little. “People keep telling me that.”

“Sorry.” He sighed, looking at Duke. Audrey wanted him to be more open. He had promised to try. “I don’t want her to talk him out of it,” He admitted.

Her expression softened and her hand closed around his. The sensation was sudden, almost staggering, despite how casual it was. “After everything, you still don’t trust him.”

“That’s not true!” Seeing that Duke and Jordan had looked at him, he turned away, pulling Audrey with him so they could speak unobserved. “I just… it’s too good, Audrey. I can’t lose it.”

“He wasn’t easy to talk into this,” Audrey reminded him. “That means it would be hard to talk him out of it. Trust him, Nathan.”

He nodded. “I do.”

One eyebrow arched up. “Prove it.”

“I will,” He promised.

“I’m not the one you have to convince,” Audrey said, turning her head to look at Duke, who had one hand on Jordan’s sleeve, stopping her from walking away. It didn’t surprise Nathan that Duke and Jordan’s conversation had been short lived, but it did surprise him that Duke seemed to be trying to prolong it.

“For what it’s worth,” He was saying. “I hope Audrey’s right.”

Jordan’s smile was small, but it came more easily than any of the ones Nathan had seen on her. “Me too,” She said.

He wanted to ask Audrey what she was talking about—she had distracted him from eavesdropping—but Duke wasn’t finished.

“And I hope we get a chance to do some damage to this guy.”

Jordan’s smile got wider, more dangerous. “Too bad the one person I’d really like to hurt is immune to me.”

“Trust me; I know how you feel.”

Nathan agreed with that. The three of them were dangerous when combined: a human taser, a man who couldn’t feel pain, and a blood-powered superhero. With them on the same side, most fights wouldn’t last long, but against William they lost their advantage.

That, Nathan decided, was as good a reason as any to chime in, maybe try to bridge the gap that had developed between him and Jordan. They had both done things wrong, he realized, but he had been unfair acting like her crimes were greater than his.

As he approached, she stood, and Duke shook his head before Nathan could try to say something, the gesture clearly begging him to not do whatever he was thinking about doing.

For the first time in his long history of getting that look from Duke, Nathan complied.

“I’m going to go… check the door,” Jordan said, standing and leaving before Nathan had a chance to make an attempt at an apology.

“Not yet,” Duke said quietly.

Nathan wasn’t sure what he meant, or why, but—despite or perhaps because of—what Audrey said, he trusted Duke.

 _I’ll undo the damage I’ve done,_ He promised internally. _Somehow._ That had always been his mission after the barn had disappeared and taken Duke and Audrey with it. He had wanted to fall in love with Lexie so she could kill him and end the troubles, and leave her with Duke, so they could have each other. He couldn’t and wouldn’t do it that way anymore, but he would still try to fix what he’d done. He would help end the troubles, he would apologize to the people he’d hurt on a reckless crusade against the world and himself.

And maybe, if he did all that, he’d have earned Duke and Audrey. Maybe he might come close to deserving them.

He sat next to Duke, taking the spot Jordan had vacated and carefully taking his hand. Audrey joined them, sitting on Duke’s other side.

“You okay?” Nathan asked Duke.

“I will be,” He said.

Nathan grunted an agreement. Once William was dead, they’d all feel a lot better.

“What were you and Jordan talking about?” Audrey asked; Nathan was glad he didn’t have to.

Duke smiled at her, kissing her hair quickly. “Something you said.”

“Really?” She smiled, leaning into him. Nathan watched with impatient envy for them to include him.

“You think she can control her trouble?”

Audrey’s smile flickered and settled into something stubborn and determined. “I think so. I hope so.”

“If hers can be controlled,” Nathan said, not even sure he should voice the thought out loud, “Maybe they all can.”

They would know he was talking about his, but neither of them pushed him on it. It was wishful thinking more than anything else; he would get his cure if they managed to cure everyone with some magic solution that would descend from the sky.

Audrey reached across Duke to squeeze Nathan’s hand. He could only feel part of it, because she’d mostly grabbed Duke’s hand which was resting on top of her. Still, the idea of it was nice, having both of them trying to offer comfort, so it worked even without sensation.

“This will be over soon,” Audrey said. “All of it. When we get William, we’ll have answers. We’ll find a cure.”

Nathan was looking forward to that. He thought about Audrey, shaking and clinging to Duke when she woke up, how terrifying it had been to realize that she was covered in blood, and that it was Duke’s.

He looked at both of them. “Be careful.” He tried to say more, wanted to, but the words stuck in his throat. He stared into Duke’s eyes. _He knows,_ Nathan thought, and didn’t say anything more.

“He’s here!” Dwight shouted, calling everyone to attention.

* * *

Duke had been expecting a fight. He had been prepared for one, something bloody and painful and disgusting. He was not expecting monologuing, or for that to somehow be worse.

“The betrayal you must all be feeling, I mean, I can’t even imagine,” William was saying, waving his gun around callously. Dwight flinched every time, not sure when it would finally go off. He was wearing a vest, but Duke knew that it wasn’t a perfect system. The best-case scenario was that Dwight was only hurt.

For all their weapons and preparation, William and his goons had still waltzed right in like he owned the place, speaking to Audrey like an old friend and mostly ignoring the rest of them, except for occasional jabs at Nathan.

This was part of the plan; get him talking, let Audrey calm him down; as soon as she got the chance, Audrey would take his gun and the rest of them would descend.

It wasn’t perfect, and the freakish magic automatons that shadowed William had not been part of the plan, but Duke figured that between him, Nathan, and Squatch, they could take them. Audrey and Jordan would be able to handle William, even without the benefit of her trouble.

It was a good plan, if this moron would just shut the fuck up for a second.

“It was fun, back in the day. That’s what I really wish you remembered; the fun.”

Audrey glared back. “Even if I remembered I wouldn’t think any of it was _fun.”_ She spat the word like it was venom. “I don’t think hurting people is fun.”

“Ah, but you did,” William said. “You were so creative, Mara. I mean, think of some of the troubles you’ve seen. You came up with those!”

“So I was batshit insane?” Audrey asked. “Half of them make no sense if you think for more than—”

“Do you have to suck the joy out of everything? See, this is the thing with overlays; they always have to pick the stuffiest people. Mara would have hated you.”

“She’d be pleased to know it’s mutual,” Audrey spat back.

This was exhausting. Watching them exchange barbs and circle each other, eyes dark and furious. Worse still was watching Nathan, poised as taught as a bowstring, following them with his eyes like he was about to dive into the fray. Duke watched, still and silent and sending every thought towards Nathan, praying that their years of friendship and worse and more would have formed a bond that allowed them some form of telepathy.

 _Stay out of it,_ He begged. _Stick to the plan. Trust her._

Perhaps it was those thoughts, or perhaps it was Nathan’s long dormant self-control that kept him still, but his eyes were flinty and bright as they followed Audrey whenever she inched closer to William.

“Perfect,” William said, his smile sick. “You look like her when you’re angry.”

Audrey faltered, stumbling just slightly over her feet in a rare show of clumsiness. _Stay strong,_ Duke though, pushing it uselessly towards Audrey. She was the strongest person he knew. She would be fine. She _had_ to be fine.

“Now,” William said, his tone only barely shifting, but Duke felt the change ripple through the room. “Give me the Aether.”

“The what?” Audrey said.

William rolled his eyes. “The black goo? The stuff you took from me?”

“Actually, you dropped it,” Duke said, the words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Whatever,” William snapped. “Give it back.”

“Tell me what it is first,” Audrey said.

Duke had always thought he cornered the market on smug grins in Haven, but William was putting him to shame and disgracing the whole expression. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. In fact, if you come with me, I’ll give you all the answers they’ve made you search so hard for.”

“She’s not going anywhere with you!” Nathan snapped, finally losing hold of his restraint.

William took a step closer to Audrey, which was exactly what they wanted, but Duke felt like someone had wrapped a fist around his heart. _Get out of there. Get away from him._

“I think that’s her choice, isn’t it?” He turned his attention to Audrey. “Don’t you want to know? Aren’t you so tired of running and digging and chasing answers no one will ever give you? I could. I’d just hand them over.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Audrey said, but Duke could see the flicker of doubt in her mind, the hesitation. It was quite an offer, even Duke had to acknowledge that.

Still, he didn’t want her to go. He didn’t want to see whatever the aftermath of that would be. Who she was now, this odd amalgamation of Lexie and Audrey, was exactly who Duke wanted her to stay. Whoever she might become with all William’s answers was a mystery he’d like to keep unsolved.

“I would,” William promised. “I’ll tell you everything, and you can finally choose. Don’t you want a choice, Audrey? Don’t you want to know who you were and decide who you want to be?”

“I already did.” She turned back to smile at them. “NOW!”

They all lunged at once, but Audrey fumbled. Perhaps it was shaking hands, perhaps her mind was still reeling with what William had said. Whatever it was, she didn’t get the gun from him.

It went off, and Duke wasn’t quick enough to count how many times, to know if the clip was empty. He did know that Dwight hit the ground hard and lay still.

The freaky looking men—Duke had dubbed them Biggie and Smalls—moved into action, their faces blank, moving like extensions of William’s arms towards Nathan.

That was also part of their plan. They had counted on William assuming that Audrey would give the Aether to Nathan. Somehow, even knowing that, Duke felt like his heart had been torn out when they both lunged for him.

Nathan was not a very good fighter. His best advantage was that he could take a hit, which— thank whatever powers existed—held true for Biggie and Smalls, who hit him, drew blood, but couldn’t make him flinch.

God, Duke loved him so much, that furious, stubborn idiot.

In that moment, overwhelmed with fierce and terrified love, Duke had to help him, even if he abandoned the plan. He was supposed to be guarding Audrey, but she could protect herself and—

Biggie had his arms around Nathan, who was struggling so hard Duke worried his spine might snap.

“Everyone freeze,” William barked. He tossed the gun aside, stepping forward to inspect Dwight on the floor. “Oh, he’s got _that_ one! God, what a classic; it was one of yours, sweetie.”

Audrey looked nauseous and Duke grabbed her shoulders, afraid she’d keel over, afraid William would take her too.

She tugged away from him, falling towards Dwight so she could check him for injuries. He didn’t move, even when she grabbed his face or poked around his neck looking for a pulse.

The tiniest movement next to Audrey’s shoe caught Duke’s eye. The vial of Aether.

They had given it to Dwight assuming that either Duke or Nathan would be predictable, the ones that William would go after immediately. In fact, they had counted on it being Nathan.

In retrospect it was complete idiocy not to account for Dwight’s trouble, not to assume that he would be the first to go down which would put the Aether at risk, but hindsight—bitch that it was—was 20/20.

Carefully, Duke inched towards the Aether bottle. Nathan was distracting Biggie, and Smalls was keeping an eye on Jordan and Stan, who hadn’t been much help so far. He held his breath, moving just slightly closer.

He had one more step and he could cover the Aether with his foot. Just one more

“What do we have here?” William gestured at Duke, and Smalls jumped into action, grabbing him and pulling him away.

 _Of all the cliched villain bullshit,_ Duke thought furiously. “Let go of me.”

“A Crocker collecting Aether?” William asked, bending down and picking up the vial. “How fitting. Not quite as effective as your ancestors, are you?”

Duke had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but he would have rather cut off his own foot than let this stupid fuck know that. He clamped his mouth shut and glared, refusing to say anything.

Audrey jumped up, eyes darting between Nathan and Duke like a trapped animal. “Let them go.”

“God… can’t you see? They don’t matter. None of them matter—”

“They matter to me!” Audrey lunged for him, a knife in her hand. Duke remembered the thigh holster she’d had on her birthday, and wondered if she’d exchanged it for an ankle sheath, and couldn’t be more proud or more in love.

In that second, Nathan—and all hell—broke loose. It was another burst of dizzying action. For the first few seconds, which were endlessly long, Duke was still held captive by Smalls. Moments later, he staggered away, the shattered remains of the mug Stan had lobbed at his head on the floor.

Though what should have been a mild concussion barely seemed to faze him, Duke was already free, which was all that counted. It had been a while since he’d been in a good old-fashioned brawl, and there was something satisfying about the simplicity of fists connecting with face.

It only took a moment for him to realize what was wrong; Smalls wasn’t getting hurt. It wasn’t like hitting Nathan, who barely flinched, but despite the damage he was taking Smalls kept coming back.

“Are you troubled?” Duke asked, one hand locked around Smalls’ throat while the smaller man twisted out of it, barely gasping.

Smalls smiled. “I’m so much more.”

It was creepy enough that Duke punched him twice for good measure, which stunned him just enough that Duke got a hand around his neck.

It was over with one sharp crack, and Smalls dissolved into black powder.

Nathan and Jordan were still fighting Biggie, who seemed just as determined as Smalls had been. Duke moved to help them just in time to see one of Biggie’s enormous fists connect with Nathan’s jaw. He slumped to the ground, completely limp.

“NATHAN!” The name tore out of his throat, and it was the wrong thing to say. Audrey was fighting William, her knife bloody, and she turned, distracted, when she heard Duke call for Nathan.

She saw him hit the ground and screamed, giving William the chance to grab her. “See? Now you finally get your answers.”

He opened the vial and poured one drop of the black goo into his palm. Keeping his arms around Audrey’s shoulders, her back pressed against his chest, he smashed his hands together. When he opened his hands, his palms were perfectly black, like he’d pressed them in in. He leaned towards Nathan.

“Now, what kind of trouble should I give him? Something fun, maybe a little messy?”

“He already has a trouble,” Audrey said, her eyes frantic. “You can’t—”

William laughed. “With your help, I can.”

“I will _never_ help you.”

“C’mon, don’t you want to see me make a trouble? You used to love that.” His hand got closer to Nathan’s exposed neck. Duke wanted to help, but any move he made would put Nathan and Audrey at risk. He was trapped, frozen by how much he cared about them, how much he couldn’t bear to be the reason one of them was hurt. 

Jordan had no such hang-ups. She swung the machete duke couldn’t believe she hadn’t dropped skewering Biggie, who turned to dust like his friend.

With a furious shout, William shoved Audrey away, knocking her to the ground and lunged for Jordan.

The black on his palms sank into his skin and his eyes flashed black as he twisted, one arm shot out. He caught Jordan in the ribs, flinging her like a rag doll into a pillar, which cracked. She sank to the ground, dazed and groaning.

Duke moved to check on her but didn’t make it before the pillar gave way and pieces of splintered ceiling fell onto her.

One hit him in the arm, opening a massive cut he didn’t have time to worry about.

He wondered, then, where Stan was, why it had to be him that ended up all alone, surrounded by the bodies of his lovers and allies. Blood was free flowing down his arm now, and he was fading, but it was his turn to go after William in one last, desperate attempt to keep the Aether out of his hands.

“You idiots really don’t give up, do you?” William asked, his eyes still black, his smile unnaturally wide.

“Unfortunately, no,” Duke said, fighting past his swimming head to raise his fists and move within punching range of William.

He was quick at first. He put up a damn good fight, but the Aether had done something to William, had made him something else, and Duke couldn’t fight that.

It was a piece of plaster that ended it in the end, the damn police station finally taking its revenge on him when he tripped over it and William hit him.

He skidded across the floor, dizzy and in so much pain that he couldn’t quite discern what exactly hurt.

He landed next to Jordan.

“This is what it comes to,” William said. “You’re all nothing. You think what you’ve seen so far is bad? You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I will show you troubles like you’ve never seen.”

“Duke…” Her voice was weak, her eyes barely open, but Jordan was reaching for him. Earlier she’d told him that Audrey believed she could control her trouble.

 _If you’re asking to test it on me, I’ll pass._ He’d played it off as a joke, like he did everything, and she’d been pissed.

He had stopped her before she walked away, though. Stopped her because he too knew what it was like to pine for Nathan Wuornos and hate that you did. _I hope she’s right,_ He’d said.

And now Jordan was reaching one shaking hand towards him. Was she asking for help? He reached back. Nothing left to lose. Maybe a burst of pain would wake him up, keep him fighting.

The bloodrush hit him harder this time, just as unexpected and powerful as the first time with Dwight. But this time he knew what it was.

And he knew how to use it.

William was leaning over Audrey’s half-conscious form, whispering something to her as he played with the vial of Aether.

“All this was for you, Dove. You’ll understand when I have you back—”

“No one is coming back,” Duke said. “She’s exactly who she wants to be.”

He swung. His fist connected with William’s stomach and he flew back, crashing through the window and out onto the street.

Duke staggered. The rush was fading, all his aches and pains setting in again. He managed to stumble a couple of steps and lay down between Audrey and Nathan, reaching for both of them before he passed out.


	16. Finale: How I longed for those words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! The finale at last! There is a definite possibility that I will write a sequel for this someday, but for now I want to move onto other projects so I'm going to wrap this one up. Thank you for reading and to those of you that commented an even bigger thanks. Enjoy!

Nathan woke up first. He figured everyone else was lucky enough to stay unconscious to avoid facing their pain. At least he didn’t have to face his pain. He did have a concussion so bad he could see it, but there wasn’t much to be done about that.

Fighting his swimming vision, he crawled over to where Duke was lying. Nathan pressed useless fingers against Duke’s throat. He couldn’t feel a pulse but what the hell did he expect?

Scrambling over to the wall, he found a shard of glass from the window William had gone through and brought it back, holding it against Duke’s lips and only breathing when he saw it get fogged up.

Duke was breathing. He would be okay. He was bleeding from a large cut on his arm, and a smaller but painful looking one on his ribs, but those were fixable.

As hard as it was, Nathan pulled himself away from Duke to check Audrey. She looked peaceful, her breathing normal and her pulse exactly what it should be. She muttered a little when she felt his fingers on her throat. She would wake on her own soon, for now he would let her sleep.

Dwight was next. He’d been out the longest and frankly Nathan wasn’t sure he was even still alive. He stared at the glass, waiting. Two seconds ticked by. Three. Four. Too many for normal breathing. Finally, the faintest hint of fog tinted the glass. Dwight was breathing, but not steadily. Not enough.

“Nathan?”

“Stan?” Nathan jumped up and then swooned, nearly collapsing from the wave of dizziness. He probably needed a CT scan, but he wasn’t the most important thing.

Stan was on the other side of the fallen pillar, his face so pale it looked gray. “I’m sorry. I should have… thought the ceiling was gonna fall, Nathan, I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay, Stan,” Nathan said, gripping his forearms and searching for injury. Stan wasn’t bleeding, but his eyes weren’t focused, and he was so pale. Shock, probably.

“Stan, call an ambulance. Try to make sure it’s someone we know, someone who—”

“Ambulance… right. Yes!” Finally, Stan’s eyes met Nathan’s. A task would keep the shock at bay for a moment, at least long enough for him to make the call and get help.

Nathan was about to return to Dwight when his head cleared enough to remember that there’d been one more person with them.

He barely saw her under the pillar. She was lucky, he realized as he took stock, that it hadn’t crushed her.

Carefully, Nathan gripped under her arms and pulled her out.

She groaned quietly and her eyes flickered open. “You have four seconds to let go of me.”

“That’s a long time,” Nathan said, letting go, but keeping his hands close in case she needed help siting up. “How do you feel?”

She was staring at her bare hands, turning them over like she was looking for something. “I feel… good.”

“You were nearly crushed to death,” He told her.

She turned around and looked at the pillar. “Right. Well, I think I’m fine. Dwight?” Her eyes went wide as she looked at him.

“Breathing, barely. Don’t know anything else.”

“Ambulance coming,” Stan said, his voice was back to being confused, unfocused.

“How long?” Jordan demanded.

Stan didn’t respond. He was staring at the wall, eyes unfocused. Nathan envied him. The effort it was taking to keep from laying down and closing his eyes, just to stop the world from spinning for a second, was exhausting.

“We’re not far from the hospital,” He said, and then turned around and threw up.

Jordan moved away in disgust. “Gross.”

“In my defense,” He said, “I had no way of knowing that was about to happen. Anyway, it should only take an ambulance a few minutes to get here.”

She took in the wreckage around them, the bodies still on the floor. “They okay?”

“Just unconscious,” he said, moving over to Duke to see if he could stop the bleeding. He pulled his shirt off, leaving just a t-shirt and tied it tightly around the cut on Duke’s arm. The one on his torso was still bleeding, but there wasn’t much more he could do.

Next to him, Audrey grumbled, waking up more fully than she had before. “Boys?”

He reached for her hand, wishing he didn’t have to grab it with a bloody one. “I’m here.”

“Duke?” Her eyes flickered open and she saw him lying there, Nathan’s stained shirt wrapped around his arm.

“He’s okay,” Nathan assured her quickly. He found a smile when he heard sirens in the distance. “Help is on the way.”

“The others?” Audrey asked. “Dwight, Jordan, Stan?”

“Doing fine,” Jordan said. “Dwight’s not looking great, but once they fix his ribs, I bet he’ll pull through.” 

“Your head okay?” He asked Audrey.

She shrugged. “Hurts a little and I’m tired but I think I’m fine. Are you?”

He shrugged, giving her half a smile. “Feel fine.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile was affectionate. It faded after a moment and she glanced at the destroyed window. “William?”

Jordan hauled herself to her feet and limped to the window. “Gone,” She said.

On her way back, she stepped on something that shattered, and glanced down at it. “He dropped it,” She said, kneeling.

Audrey and Nathan joined her, staring at the shattered remains of the vial of Aether. Jordan reached for it and Audrey’s hand shot out to stop her. “Don’t touch it.”

Jordan pulled away, looking at her hands the way she had when she had first woken up. “Right. What… did you see the way he looked when this stuff… soaked into him?”

Audrey nodded. “His eyes… I don’t know what it means.”

That must have happened after Nathan had been knocked out. His head was swimming again, the station tilting at an impossible angle.

Paramedics burst in right then, firefighters at their heels.

“Who can stand?” Nathan vaguely recognized the paramedic who was leading the charge but couldn’t come up with a name; he blamed the concussion. “And if you can, you should.”

Nathan stood and helped Audrey up, but his head spun so badly he had to grab onto her for support. They started to walk out together.

“’M fine,” Dukes voice was low, barely audible; Nathan’s trouble-enhanced hearing, which Duke had always found so annoying, was the only reason he heard him. “Help me up.”

Audrey and Nathan took their places at Duke’s sides to prop him up, Nathan carefully avoiding the makeshift bandage on his arm.

“Squatch okay?” Duke asked.

Nathan glanced at the crowd of medics that were helping him onto a gurney. “He will be.”

“Stan?”

A lone medic was crouched next to Stan, talking to him in a low voice as she wrapped a blanket around him. Nathan nodded. “Him too.”

Duke breathed a sigh of relief. “I think he saved my life.” Another breath, and then his eyes widened. “Jordan?”

She waved, almost smiling. “Still here.”

Duke smiled. “Damn it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t quite go away. When, Nathan wondered, had they become friends?

They shuffled outside together, squinting in the bright light reflecting off melting snow. A crowd was starting to gather, their faces blending together like smeared paint to Nathan’s fogged brain.

“Over here!” Nathan frowned. He knew that voice.

“Gloria?” She hadn’t worked for the department or the hospital for year.

“Rumor has it the police station is caving in,” Gloria said, as if this was a major inconvenience to her. “Teagues told me I ought to come down and make sure none of you are dead.”

Nathan smiled. Gloria had been around during his father’s time, an ME alongside Eleanor, and the familiarity of her was an amazing thing to behold. 

She fixed her eyes on Duke. “You, sit down and get that dirty rag off your arm.”

That ‘dirty rag’ had been Nathan’s favorite shirt, but he didn’t argue as he helped Duke sit down.

“Intern!” Gloria called, and another familiar face popped out from the other side of the ambulance. “Check them.”

Nathan studied Vickie as she began a cursory examination of him. “Weren’t you an art teacher?”

She smiled ruefully, touching the bruise on his jaw. “I had to step away from sketching for a while.”

“Right.”

“Follow my finger.” She waved it back and forth in front of his face.

He tracked it as best he could with his eyes, wishing the dizziness would fade.

“Any pain when you did that?” She asked.

“No.”

“Any pain anywhere else?”

“No.” He didn’t tell her about his trouble. All it would mean would be MRI’s and CT scans, just for them to tell him he needed to go home and rest, which he already knew.

“Alright. You might have a mild concussion, so take it easy when you get home and call right away if you experience pain or vomiting.”

“Will do.” Vickie left him to check on Audrey, and Nathan turned his attention back to Duke.

Gloria was muttering and bandaging the cut on his arm. “Sit still; you’re fussier than my grandson.”

It was funny watching Duke be put in his place by a woman barely half his size, but that was Gloria. Nathan was smiling until Gloria went away and Jordan took her place next to Duke.

He remembered Audrey chastising him for eavesdropping last time, but he couldn’t help it.

“Look, I need to…” Jordan was wringing her hands. “Dwight’s not awake yet and—”

“It didn’t hurt,” Duke told her. “When you grabbed my hand. You didn’t hurt me.”

Nathan saw Jordan swallow hard, watched her face twitch like she was fighting to keep it neutral. “Please, I know… can I just—”

Duke held out his hand to her and Nathan’s heart jumped to his throat. “If this hurts you owe me a beer.”

Jordan took his hand.

There was a beat, a breath of time while they both seemed to be waiting for Duke to fall to the ground screaming.

It didn’t happen. Nothing happened until Jordan was throwing her arms around Duke; a more enthusiastic display of affection than any she’d given Nathan while they’d dated, he noted with amusement more than jealousy.

Suddenly, she pulled back and pushed Duke away. “I don’t like you.”

Duke threw his hands up. “You hugged me!”

She glared for a moment, but—and this might have been optimistic—Nathan thought there was some affection in it. She pinched her lips together and muttered, “Thank you.”

Duke laughed. “Sweetheart, whatever happened, I had nothing to do with it.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.” This time Nathan was sure she was smiling, even if just a little. “We’re not friends.”

Duke rolled his eyes, a similarly half-irritated and half-fond smile on his face. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Audrey reached out and squeezed Jordan’s hand. “I—”

“If you say ‘I told you so’, I swear—”

“I wasn’t going to, god,” Audrey said. “I was going to say, I’m proud of you.”

“That’s worse.”

“There is really no pleasing you is there?”

Jordan laughed. “I guess not.”

“Seriously though,” Audrey said. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Jordan said. “For, um, making me think it was possible, I guess.”

“What happened? Maybe there’s a way to give it to other people, teach them how?”

“I think… I don’t… trust people very much, ever since.” She took a deep breath. “I needed to trust someone then and… I guess it worked.”

“I’m honored,” Duke chimed in.

“Shut up.” Jordan flipped him off.

“Ambulance is leaving with the big guy, who’s going?” Gloria cut in.

Jordan stood. “I will.”

“Call when he wakes up,” Audrey said.

“Will do.”

Gloria looked Nathan up and down. “You should go in for a CT scan.” She turned to Duke. “And you need more stitches.” She looked between Nathan and Duke and then at Audrey. “And you need your head checked.”

She climbed into the ambulance with Dwight and Jordan. Audrey moved to follow them, but Duke grabbed her hand. “No. No hospitals. Let’s just go home.”

Nathan nodded. “CT scans are overrated.”

* * *

Duke wasn’t sure what he’d meant when he’d said ‘home’, but he was surprised that they ended up on the Rouge with no discussion. Logically, it made sense; it was the closest to the police station and with two head injuries between them, Duke doubted any of them was in good enough shape to drive. He also had the most well stocked first aid kit, a necessity for anyone spending time at sea alone.

Still, he hadn’t really expected it, and was surprised at how normal it felt to have Nathan and Audrey hanging out in his kitchen. He wished it could have been time for them to just be together. After everything they’d been through, Duke just wanted to keep them close and act normal for a few hours. Of course, as always, they had more pressing things to attend to.

“Do either of you know how to give stitches?” In retrospect, maybe going to the hospital would have been a better idea, but Gloria had taken care of the worst of the cut on his arm, so it was just the one on his ribs that needed attention.

Audrey blanched. “No.”

“Really? Two personalities and neither can stitch a cut?” He shook his head.

“’S alright,” Nathan said. “I can.”

Duke looked at him a little skeptically. “Nate, you know I love you but, you got hit really hard on the head.”

Nathan flushed and looked away. Duke wasn’t sure whether to regret his words but couldn’t quite bring himself to.

“I can see just fine,” Nathan muttered.

Deciding to brush past the awkwardness, Duke sat down and put his arm up on the back of a chair to give Nathan better access to the cut.

Nathan poured some alcohol on a cotton ball and dabbed carefully at the cut. It stung, but Duke tried very hard not to let that show. It was a little fascinating to watch Nathan prepare the suture, the way his eyes focused, his mouth just slightly open, revealing his tongue held between his teeth.

As tough as he was—and wanted Nathan and Audrey to think he was—Duke had to look away from the actual stitching part of the process, but he refocused on Nathan as he was finishing.

“Duke,” Nathan said, still staring hard at the cut on his ribs. “Just… I wanted to say—should have said it before—but… I love you; I love both—”

“Ow, shit,” Duke jerked away from Nathan, who had pressed a bandage on harder than necessary. “Try to remember that some of us _can_ feel pain.” Biting on a smile, he reached around and flicked Nathan’s ear.

“Ow!” Nathan swatted his hand away.

Audrey dropped the mug she’d been about to fill with coffee.

Duke turned, watching Nathan, whose face was pale under the bruise. He swallowed hard. “Do it again.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Nate…”

“Duke, please.”

Carefully, Duke reached out, brushing his fingers over Nathan’s temple, curving down and stopping just above where the bruise started on his jaw.

Nathan’s mouth dropped open, a small, barely audible gasp escaping him. He twisted his head slightly, chasing the sensation the way Duke had seen him do with Audrey, the way he’d envied.

The silence lasted another second that stretched on infinitely as Duke carefully stroked Nathan’s face. He wasn’t sure what exactly broke it, but suddenly Nathan was moving forward, crashing into Duke’s space to kiss him.

It was clumsy, desperate and perfect. Duke could only barely keep up with him, his hands coming up to steady Nathan.

His kitchen chairs really weren’t meant to hold the weight of two full-grown men, and between his own long legs and Nathan’s there was really too much leg in not enough space, but fuck all of that, because Nathan could _feel_ him, and even more remarkably than that, he _wanted_ to and Duke figured this chair could collapse underneath him and he’d hardly even notice with the way Nathan’s lips were moving over his.

His brain was processing everything too slow, but his body was far ahead of him, his hands were in Nathan’s hair, moving down to his neck and then back up.

Nathan shuddered, letting out a low, broken groan. “Audrey,” He whispered, pulling back from Duke looking wrecked and drunk. “Audrey—”

She smiled, and Duke wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe her eyes were a little brighter than they usually were. “This is… this is between you. I understand if you just want—”

“Come here,” Nathan said. “Please.”

She stepped carefully over the shattered mug on the ground to stand next to them. The very small part of Duke’s brain that was still functioning normally was relieved that she didn’t try to test the chair any further. The rest of him was reaching towards her, pulling her closer to him and to Nathan.

“It’s not just you,” Nathan whispered in awe, laying his head against Audrey’s shirt and laughing. “It’s soft.”

It had been a long time since Duke had seen fit to call Nathan ‘adorable’, but it had been just as long since he’d seen Nathan show this much unabashed joy. Duke put two fingers under Nathan’s jaw—the uninjured side—and turned his face towards him. It was one of Nathan’s favorite gestures, the same he’d used to pull Duke’s attention away from Chris Brody’s trouble, which had worked far better than Duke would have admitted at the time.

He kissed Nathan again, this time slower, more thorough. Even knowing how desperate Nathan must have been, Duke wished he’d taken some time. The first non-Audrey kiss Nathan could feel probably shouldn’t have felt exactly the same as it had when they were horny, incompetent teenagers.

Nathan groaned, and Duke wondered if he would stay this vocal or if it would fade as he got used to feeling again. When he let out another of those breathless, broken sighs, Duke found himself praying that he would always be like this.

Standing clumsily, Nathan pulled Duke to his feet, which stung all of his many injuries, but Duke didn’t give a damn. Nathan Wuornos was dragging him back to his bedroom and that was never going to get old, never going to be unwelcome if they stayed together for the next fifty years.

Audrey followed them, smiling.

It was strange that something he’d thought about so many times—him, Nathan, and Audrey fucking on the Rouge—was finally coming to pass and all he could think about was the fact that he hadn’t made the bed last time he’d left. It had been days since he’d been here, having crashed at Audrey’s place, the police station, and Nathan’s place for the last few days.

His own sheets felt good under his back, but Nathan’s chest pressed against his felt better. He wasn’t sure where along the way Nathan had lost his shirt, but it was gone, and Duke’s hands were roaming his back.

Nathan stopped kissing him, arching back and inadvertently grinding into Duke.

“You’re too far ahead of me,” Audrey laughed. She tugged her shirt off, wincing slightly as she did so.

Duke wanted to watch her; he was never going to be over the way she looked, but Nathan was distracting in every possible way, and the look Audrey was giving him told him that it was Nathan’s turn to be the center of attention. He was more than happy to be a part of that.

Audrey joined them on the bed, and Nathan pulled away from Duke for a moment to kiss her. It wasn’t quite as smooth as Nathan probably would have wanted, but Duke would always enjoy the view.

Despite how much he loved them—or possibly because of it—he couldn’t help teasing them. They were barely getting started, their kiss still in the slow, soft early stages when Duke gripped Nathan’s hips and ground into them.

Nathan broke the kiss with a startled gasp. “Duke, fuck.” His eyes closed and his head dropped back.

Duke smiled. “Feel good?”

Nathan laughed, and Audrey pulled him back into their kiss. There was something free about it, lighter than any of them had allowed themselves to be in ages. Duke wanted that just as much as he wanted them. He laughed with them when Audrey flipped them over to straddle Nathan.

He stretched casually, folding his hands behind his head to watch them. Nathan’s hands were running absently up and down Audrey’s legs, and he strained, stretching up to try and kiss her again.

Audrey leaned away, her eyes sparkling with laughter. Nathan looked wrecked, still straining to get closer to her despite being pinned down. As much as he was enjoying the show, Duke took pity on him and leaned over, holding the back of Nathan’s head and kissing him while Audrey ground down onto him.

Nathan let out a gasp that faded into a whine far in the back of his throat. Duke pressed his tongue between Nathan’s lips, chasing the sound.

“God, shit,” Nathan jerked back, falling into the pillows and panting. “Can’t… need a break. It’s so much. Christ, there’s so much.”

Audrey climbed off him, sitting next to him and stroking his hair carefully. Duke wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He trailed kisses down her neck, over her shoulder, keeping his eyes on Nathan the whole time.

Nathan watched, eyes bright and focused, as Audrey’s head dropped back and she shifted, letting one hand slide down between her thighs.

She pulled away from Duke so she could take her pants of, and Duke did the same.

Nathan shifted, tugging his off as well, but Audrey stopped him, one hand over his. “You don’t have to. If it’s—”

“No. Yes! I—” 

Audrey smiled. “What do you want?”

They were the same words she’d used the first time they’d done this, when Duke had been pointlessly resisting what now seemed inevitable.

Nathan hesitated, and Duke noticed that he was blushing, something that had no business being arousing. “I want…” He looked at Duke. “I want you inside me.”

Duke swallowed. Fuck. He’d heard Nathan talk dirty, but that had nothing on this, nothing on saying _that_ in the same straightforward, simple way he said everything else.

“Nate…” Duke said, reaching for him. “It’ll hurt. I don’t want—”

“You were the last thing I felt before I got my trouble. Want you to be the first now that it’s gone. Please.”

Audrey leaned up and kissed Duke’s cheek. “You’ll be careful. I know you.”

“If you don’t want to,” Nathan said quickly. “I know—”   
“I want to,” Duke said, voice very low. “I want to.”

He fumbled with the drawer on his bedside table, pulling out lube he hadn’t used in way longer than he would admit to either of them. Audrey was right; he was careful, working slowly, or at least trying to. Nathan was eager and the sounds he made were gorgeous and tempting and absolutely not something Duke could have ever imagined hearing from him.

Audrey leaned back, stroking herself and watching them, which was just as distracting. He wanted to be careful, but he swore he was about to combust.

Maybe he should have gone longer, been more careful, prepared Nathan more, but Nathan was just shy of begging, and there were limits to Duke’s patience. Still, he was achingly slow as he slid into him.

He saw stars, he heard Nathan sigh his name, Audrey leaned in and kissed him, reaching down to stroke Nathan at the same time.

Nathan came in less than a minute, and Duke couldn’t blame him because he was hanging on by a thread. He was so close, and he was looking down at Nathan who was kissing Audrey, and it was perfect. His pace faltered and he sped up, chasing his high.

Nathan ground back into him, groaning incoherently except for Duke’s name and occasionally Audrey’s. He had two fingers curling deep inside her and her head was tossed back, her lip between her teeth. Duke slowed so he could watch them, enjoy this incredible view.

“There’ll be time, Duke,” Audrey had said. “There will be time for everything.” He was counting on that now, because this was coming to a close too fast.

Duke leaned down, his chest flush against Nathan’s back. “I love you.”

That was it. He fell apart thrusting into Nathan. The world was crashing around him, he might have momentarily blacked out, not that he would tell Nathan that. He pulled out, collapsing on his back, just breathing for a minute.

When he had enough energy, he looked over, watching Nathan suck Audrey’s clit between his teeth, still stroking her with his fingers. He wanted to help, he was really thinking about it, but he was exhausted and dazed and just laying here watching was nice, especially when Audrey looked at him while dragging her fingers through Nathan’s hair. She came with a gasp, still watching him and Nathan kept going until she was pushing him away with a satisfied laugh.

“I love you,” She said, moving so she was between them and putting an arm around both of them.

Nathan leaned in to kiss her collarbone. “You too.”

Duke watched them, swallowing past a lump in his throat he couldn’t get words around. He had them both. No choices, no misery, no watching them and aching at what he’d lost. Things that had seemed like a certainty when he’d been trying to refuse them now seemed ridiculous; even if he’d stupidly said no back then, he’d have been gravitating towards them. He’d have wanted to be right here and hated the fact that he’d missed his chance.

But he hadn’t missed anything. He looked at Audrey, saw Lex’s smile and the way her eyebrows quirked up when she was teasing. He also saw Audrey, her eyes, the adoring way she looked at Nathan and—he realized stupidly late—at him. He had her, _they_ had her.

And next to her, Nathan was smiling and relaxed, those walls that had been up against Duke for so long were finally down. He _loved_ him. Nathan Wuornos loved him, and he’d said so _out loud_ , and he was here in Duke’s bed smiling with Audrey.

It was everything he could have ever wanted, and nothing he would have let himself hope for.

* * *

Nathan and Duke fell asleep. Audrey was exhausted too, but she couldn’t bring herself to relax enough to doze off. Instead, she kissed both of them and carefully climbed out of bed.

She returned to the kitchen, cleaned up the mess from the mug she’d dropped, and went back through the motions of making coffee. She looked around the galley and wondered why they hadn’t spent much time here. The last time she’d spent more than an hour or so on Duke’s boat had been when she’d been held captive with Agent Howard, and that felt like another lifetime ago. In many ways, it was; she had been a different person then.

“How do you like me now, Howard?” She muttered, pouring herself a cup of coffee and taking it out to the deck.

Seeing as Duke was occupied, she didn’t think he would mind her using his chair, and she sat down, turning her back to Haven so she could stare out over the water.

Armed with coffee and a beautiful view, it was time to think about what she’d been avoiding since waking up in the police station; William was still out there. He might have been injured, and she prayed he was weakened when they took the Aether from him, but he was still out there, and they still had no plan to get rid of him.   
Even considering that, and how much Audrey hated him, hated everything he represented, she wasn’t sure she’d want to get rid of him given the option.

He had answers. He knew things she had always wanted to know, things she had ached for when she just thought she was Audrey, things Lexie had wanted to know because she had never been allowed to be sure of who she was the way Audrey had once been.

William knew where she came from. He knew who she had been, and he knew about the troubles. Was there a cure somewhere in his psychopathic head?

Audrey glanced back at the door, thinking of Nathan. His trouble was gone for now, cured when he finally decided to be honest with himself and with Duke. The same was true of Jordan; her trouble had gone away when she’d let go and let herself trust someone else.

Was this permanent? Audrey wondered. Would they stay cured even if something stressful happened? Something in her thought that no, they wouldn’t.

She shrugged away from that instinct, from something that came from far beneath the layers of Audrey and Lexie.

Mara. William had called her Mara. Such a small name for a such a big problem. Audrey didn’t want to push too close to the source of that instinct, but she wondered if it was the thing that helped her help troubled people. The without-a-manual instinct that she leaned so heavily on, even on their worst days.

Perhaps that was where this whole, evil arrangement had come from. The only person who could cure the troubles was the person who created them, who understood them best, but first she had to be made into someone who would _want_ to help.

“I _do_ want to help,” Audrey told the Mara in her head. “And I don’t give a fuck what you want, or who you were. I’m _me_ now. Get used to it, bitch.”

For whatever reason, that settled her. She knew who she was.

_“She’s exactly who she wants to be_ ,” Duke had said. Audrey smiled. He knew her so well.

“Audrey!” She turned back to the door in time to see Nathan and Duke shoving through it clumsily. They saw her and she watched both their shoulders fall as they let their breath out.

“You were gone,” Nathan said, crossing the deck in long strides. “We woke up and…”

She hadn’t even thought about it. She’d figured they’d sleep for a while, that she’d have time to sit and think and drink her coffee.

“Are you okay?” Duke asked. He was playing it off, but she could tell he’d been just as worried as Nathan.

Smiling, she let Nathan wrap her in a hug. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

Nathan frowned. “About us?”

She brushed her fingers down Nathan’s cheek. “I’m always thinking about you. But I came out here because—”

“William,” Duke said. “He got away.”

Audrey stood, reaching up to tangle her fingers in Duke’s hair and pull him down for a kiss. “It wasn’t your fault. Without you… I don’t want to think about what would have happened.”

William had talked about giving Nathan another trouble. He’d been so close, and she’d been trapped. She would have had to watch…

Audrey swallowed hard. “We’ll find him. He doesn’t have the Aether anymore; he can’t make more troubles.”

“What if he runs?” Duke asked. “We can’t let that guy loose on the world.”

“He won’t,” Audrey said, the same instinctive sureness settling in her. “He’s here for me. He won’t go far.”

“Was that supposed to be comforting?” Duke asked. “Because I’m not comforted.”

Audrey smiled at him. “Why? You did fine against him last time.” She was proud that he’d found a way to use his trouble without killing anyone. There was more to it than death and blood and pain. She hoped that would settle him, hoped he could make peace with it.

“Does everyone else remember the police station ceiling caving in?” Nathan asked. “Because that was Duke’s fault—"

Duke looked at him. “Yeah, you might want to check up on that.”

“If I lose my job because of this asshole—”

“Right, Nathan,” Duke said, “They’ll disband the police because the station fell apart. That’s how things work.”

Nathan opened his mouth to protest, but Duke wasn’t done. “If it were that easy, I’d have torched the place myself ages ago.”

Audrey laughed, and she could see Nathan trying to formulate a response around the smile that was twisting his lips.

“You did set fire to something inside the station, what? Two days ago?”

“That was self-defense,” Duke said.

The stupid blanket trouble felt like lifetimes ago. They hadn’t known anything back then; they’d just thought they were looking for a way out of killing Nathan or Duke. The fact that that had ever been a plan, had ever even been a thought, was ridiculous now. As if she wouldn’t find a way to set fire to the sky if it meant keeping them. As if she could have done anything to help anyone if she lost one of them.

She had missed some part of the conversation, and Nathan and Duke were in each other’s space, a breath away from arguing or kissing—it was hard to tell with them—but they were both smiling.

Nathan was relaxed; she hadn’t seen him like that since the day his trouble had been stolen. She had fallen in love with him a little when he’d saved Jackie, but she had seen the cost. It was good to see him like this again, the tension he wore around finally relenting just a little.

Duke, too, seemed a little lighter, though she wasn’t sure why. He was still just as troubled as he had been, but she wondered if maybe using it for good had changed something for him.

Her phone, forgotten in her pocket, beeped. Jordan had texted her.

_Got the number from Dwight’s phone. The tall cop collected the Aether and locked it in his gun safe. said no one would look for it there._ Dwight doing fine.

A minute later another text came through. _Tell Crocker I owe him a drink._

“Jordan says she owes you a drink, Stan took the Aether home, and that Dwight’s going to be okay.”

“Stan?” Nathan asked.

“Apparently he went back in and got it off the ground,” Audrey said. “He’s right that no one would look for it there. I doubt William even knows his name.”

“Stan is too nice to be involved in all this,” Nathan said.

“Yeah, remind me that I need to buy him a new mug, and maybe some _very_ nice coffee.” He eyed Nathan. “All legal import of course.”

Nathan laughed. “I wouldn’t even care. Stan— _Stan!_ —saved your life with a mug.”

Duke grimaced. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“I hope not.”

Audrey smiled and stood, standing on her tiptoes to put an arm around each of them so she could pull them into a hug. It was the best feeling in the world, in any of her memories. Safe and daring and exactly right all rolled into one. Duke’s hand on her hair and Nathan’s pressing against her lower back, and both of them leaning into each other over her head.

“I love you,” She whispered.

“Best decision you ever made,” Duke said sagely, and Audrey leaned back so she could punch him in the shoulder.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Duke! You ruined the moment.”

“And what? That’s your job?” Duke’s smile was downright gleeful.

Nathan looked at Audrey, his _Can you believe this guy?_ expression so familiar.

“I was trying to be serious,” Audrey said.

Duke nodded, and the smile wiped off his face as fast as it had appeared. He held her jaw in one hand, tilting her head so she had to look at him. “I love you, Audrey Alexandra Parker, and I’m not done fighting for your future.” He kissed her.

He turned to Nathan. “You already know everything I would say.” He kissed him.

Nathan pulled away. “I know. Still like to hear you say it though.” The very slight smile made Audrey’s eyes prickle just a little.

Duke rolled his eyes. “You’re a pain in my ass, Nate, and I’ve always been in love with you.” This time, he lifted Nathan’s arm up and kissed the tattoo, keeping his eyes on Nathan’s the whole time.

Audrey’s heart pounded. She swallowed hard. “Thank you,” She whispered. “For helping me stay me. For knowing who I was when I didn’t.”

“Thank you,” Nathan replied. “For not listening to me when I thought killing me was a good idea.”

“I promise to never listen to your bad ideas.” She squeezed his hand.

Duke put his hand over theirs. “I will also not listen to Nathan.”

“Duke—”

“What? It’s the same thing she—”

“The moment, Duke!”

“Stop arguing!” Audrey insisted.

“It’s how we show love,” Duke said. “See?” He dragged Nathan in for another kiss, and Nathan gave into it completely.

When they parted, Duke closed his eyes and sighed. “We’re avoiding the elephant in the room, aren’t we?”

“That’s what we’re good at,” Nathan said.

“We still haven’t figured out how to cure the troubles,” Duke said.

“William could go out there and make more,” Nathan added.

Audrey sighed. “Remember my list?” She had written it to sort out her priorities, to determine what needed to be done. “Let’s see, in the last three days we have: found the person changing people’s troubles—”

“We didn’t stop him,” Nathan pointed out.

“Fine, count it as half. We also helped Jordan so the guard won’t be a problem for a while and proved that killing you wouldn’t do anything. Two and a half. That’s half the list in three days.”

“What does that leave?” Duke asked.

“Stopping William, putting out metaphorical and literal fires related to the troubles, and saving everyone,” Audrey said.

“Saving everyone,” Nathan sighed and turned to look out over the water. “That’s the hard part, isn’t it?”

“After everything we did,” Duke said, “Seems a little more possible though, doesn’t it?”

“It’s possible,” Audrey assured them. She didn’t tell them where the assurance came from, that the space that Audrey had once occupied in Lexie’s mind seemed to hold Mara now, but she could sense Mara’s fear. There was a cure for the troubles, there was a way to save everyone. They were going to find it.

“It’s nice out here,” Duke said. “Quiet.”

Audrey nodded and moved in between them. Duke wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand rest on Nathan’s shoulder, linking them.

They both faced the sea, but she looked over the town, her town. Today, two troubles had been cured. It wasn’t much, but it was a step. Finally, a step in the right direction.

“We haven’t seen the last of William.” Nathan’s voice was low, quiet.

“We haven’t faced our last trouble,” Duke agreed.

“We’ll be okay,” Audrey said, still looking at the town. Standing between them, she was as certain as she could be of anything. “We’ll be together.” 


End file.
